


Our Song

by Erinla



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Destiel - Freeform, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-10 13:51:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/786757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erinla/pseuds/Erinla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about boys who love music and love each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I've Just Seen A Face

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a roleplay with my friend (thelittletreetopper.tumblr.com) so she is is a co-author. Also, because this roleplay is still ongoing, warnings and things are subject to change.
> 
> I'll have trigger warnings in the notes at the start of each chapter. They will be vague, but if you're worried about spoilers please try to avoid reading them until you finish the chapter uwu  
> Also, minor warning for mention of drug use.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas, starting his final year of high school, gets stuck tutoring Dean Winchester, and he's not very happy about it.

**I've Just Seen A Face** _  
_

_We’d just met, he’s just the boy for me and I want all the world to see we’ve met_

 

Castiel Novak was relieved, at the very least, that this was his final year of high school. Two weeks into the semester and it was as miserable as always, but he clung to the fact that it was almost over. Just a few more measly months and he’d be done, free to go to college, to move to the West Coast and get away from his family and this awful town.

            He lived in an insignificant little hick town about forty-five minutes outside of Lawrence, Kansas, and he hated every square mile of it.

            From the nasty kids at his awful high school, to the home he had to return to after classes, Cas felt an overwhelming amount of animosity towards the whole dang place.

            But before he could leave, he had to get through one last year of high school, and if he had to waste his time there, he was going to make it worth his while; meaning that he was going to try his hardest to pile on a heaping amount of well-to-dos that he could put on a college application. _Anything_ that would give him a better chance of getting him into a good school, far, far away from Kansas.

            Two weeks allowed plenty of time for the various students to scramble to the tutoring lab, desperate even from the beginning to keep their grades from slipping, and Cas, despite lacking a bit in the people skills department, made a pretty decent tutor. He was smart, at least, and his patience made him a good teacher.

            As soon as last period classes were over, Cas went straight to the tutoring lab.

He only had one student to tutor for the moment (it was still early in the semester, after all); a senior in his graduating class named Meg Masters who struggled in Chemistry. Surprisingly enough, they got along well, and Cas always enjoyed tutoring with her, even if she did have trouble focusing sometimes.

            “Novak,” The pretty dark-haired girl at the front desk said, the look on her face suggesting that she’d rather address a rat.

            Cas wanted to groan but he held it back, remembering to be polite, and stepped over to the girl.

            “Hello, Lisa.” He said, blinking at the girl and waiting to see what she wanted.

            “You’ve got another student after Meg.” Lisa said, clicking her tongue and sliding a sheet of paper that had been filled out in a sloppy scribble from a student who had needed academic assistance, and a folder containing their class information.

            This time Cas did groan out loud. “Really, Lisa?” He said as soon as he read the name scratched onto the paper. “Of all people? I know there are plenty of other open tutors here. Can’t someone else take him?”

            Lisa sighed with the air of someone about to explain something very obvious. “Because, Novak, you’re the best tutor here, and while I hate to degrade the poor boy to having to spend time around _you_ …I know that you’re the one most likely to get him a passing grade. So you get him after Meg, no complaints, because I’m not changing it.”

            Cas moped as he dragged his feet over to the table where Meg was already waiting for him, her eyebrows raised at the look on his face.

            “Alright there, Clarence?”

            “No,” He said flatly, folding his arms on the desk and pressing his forehead to his wrists. “I have a new student to tutor after you.” The tone in his muffled words made it clear that he was not happy about this person.

            “Uh-oh. It’s not one of your little bully friends, is it?”

“No, thank the Lord, it’s none of them.” Cas didn’t lift his head as he slid the tutoring application across the table to Meg who craned her neck to read the name scribbled on it. She let out a low whistle.

“Dean Winchester, eh? I hear he isn’t so bad, Cas, I think you’re just overreacting.”

Cas didn’t respond. The things he _wanted_ to say he knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have even brought it up in the first place, because he _knew_ it was wrong to judge people, and he had never actually exchanged more than two words with the boy, but still.

Dean Winchester. Dean-in-detention-every-other-day-of-the-week-Winchester.

            It wasn’t really any surprise that Dean needed tutoring, either. He was the type who skipped class constantly, and he probably didn’t even turn in his work. This was going to be an utter nightmare.

            Cas slowly lifted his head from his arms, sighing at Meg. “Let’s just…get your Chemistry started. I don’t want to think about what tutoring him is going to be like…”

            Tutoring went pretty quickly when he got along with the student, so his sessions with Meg always seemed to go by too quickly—particularly that day when he was dreading the following lesson.

            Forty-five minutes later, Cas bade Meg a miserable sounding goodbye, and pulled out the folder that Lisa had given him on Dean’s class, deciding that he should at least figure out what he was going to be teaching when Dean got there.

            _If_ he got there.

            Fifteen minutes past the start of their session and there was no sign of Dean.

            Of _course_ he was late. Had there really been any expectation that he would show up at the allotted time?

            This was a complete waste of time. Cas could be doing—

            The door to the tutoring lab finally burst open, and there was Dean, late as ever and panting as though he had just run a marathon.

            He spotted Cas in an instant, heading over to the table and slumping in the chair, letting his backpack drop to the floor with a quiet _thump_.

            “Sorry I’m late,” He spoke immediately flashing a pair of very apologetic eyes on Cas.  “I had to drop my brother off at school, so I ended up running behind.”

            Cas didn’t feel like this completely justified Dean’s tardiness, but he figured that if he was going to spend the entire school year tutoring the other boy, he had better not start off their first session by getting angry.

            “It’s…it’s fine. Just don’t make a habit of it.” Cas decided not to give Dean a chance to give any retort, and immediately jumped into the lesson. The sooner they got this over with, the better. “Okay, so you have Dramatic Lit. With Ms. Hareville. She’s a good teacher, I had her for a few English classes.”

            “Yeah, I guess she’s good, but I just don’t get this stuff. I kick ass in math and all that, but English is a bitch.”

            Cas was frowning hard in response to the other’s language, but he didn’t say anything about it.

            _Keep it civil._

“Actually, most people are like that. You’re either good with math and science, or history and English.”

            “So, what, do you suck at math, then, since you’re so awesome in English?”

            Cas was able to push back the smirk that tugged at his lips, but the smugness behind his words wasn’t completely masked as he spoke. “I do well in all my classes.”

            Cas looked up, his eyes catching Dean’s. It wasn’t any wonder that Dean was so popular with the girls, Cas could admit to that easily.

            He had soft features, bright eyes, a dusting of freckles that Cas never would have noticed if he hadn’t been sitting right across from the other teen…

            “So,” He continued to speak, swatting away the distracting thoughts. “Oedipus the King is the first play you’re reading. You have to have a character analysis on any character of your choosing. It says you’re supposed to have up to lines 337 read by now.” Cas peered skeptically over his glasses. “Have you done any of the reading?”

            “Yeah, I _read_ it,” Dean began in a defensive tone. “But I didn’t get any of it. Might as well have been staring at blank pages for how much I got out of that damn play.”

            Well, at least he had made an effort. “That’s fine, I’ll walk you through it, and hopefully I can help you gain a better understanding of the subject matter.” Cas reached for Dean’s copy of the play, and propped it open in between them.

            Dean wasn’t dumb. Not like he seemed to think he was, anyway. He just needed things explained to him in different words, and suddenly it would click.

            Cas caught on quickly to the way Dean’s eyes would light up when he understood something, and his lips would twitch at the corners as he tried not to smile too wide.

            As it turned out, Dean wasn’t nearly as awful to work with as Cas had been expecting. Once they got going, he focused well, and listened to what Cas told him.

He was also a lot friendlier than Cas had anticipated him to be.

            What really surprised Cas was the way Dean treated him. Cas didn’t particularly _care_ about his popularity at school, (he’d be gone soon, anyway) but he was well aware that he wasn’t liked.

            Jesus freak, pussy, and faggot were just some of the few choice words that people liked to throw at him from time to time, and the rumors about him that buzzed around the school weren’t exactly kept on the down-low.

            But from the way Dean acted, Cas would have thought that he’d never heard a word about Cas. And maybe he hadn’t. Or maybe he was just nicer than most people.

            “Uh, you in there?” Dean said, snapping Cas from his thoughts to meet a pair of concerned green eyes.

            “Yes, sorry…what?”

            “You were just kind of staring…it was a little freaky.” But he was smiling at Cas still, his eyebrows quirked.

            Cas shook his head. “I was spacing out…didn’t get a lot of sleep last night…okay, well, it’s—wow, it’s almost four-thirty already.” Was it really? When did time start zipping by so fast? “So we’ll pick up where we left off yesterday, and probably be able to finish going over this section of the play, and then I can help you work on your character analysis.” He stood up, reaching for his backpack.

            “Awesome.” Dean replied, getting to his feet as well, still smiling at Cas in a way that made the brunette’s heart jump into his throat _way_ to fast.

            “Uh, then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cas needed to get out of that room. He needed to get away from Dean, and away from the uncomfortable thoughts buzzing around in his head.

            He was already walking out the door before Dean even finished saying goodbye, heading to his car in a flustered rush.

            Cas started up the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, his mind buzzing with thoughts, bringing him back to the conversation he had had a few months back with his cousin.

            Balthazar had made him feel a lot better about everything after getting all of that off his chest that day, but this was the first time since then that Cas had gotten that _awful_ dip in his stomach just from looking at someone, and it was a lot to think about.

            He kept one hand on the wheel as his other instinctively went to toy with the small silver cross that hung around his neck on a thin chain. It was a nervous habit, and he usually didn’t even think about the action, but today it felt comforting.

            Before he knew it, he was pulling into his driveway, not entirely sure if he was glad to be home or not.

            Home wasn’t really much of a comfort anymore. Cas hated it almost as much as his school. His family drove him crazy, and Michael was nothing short of overbearing. Maybe if he was quiet Cas could slip up to his room undetected.

            He cut the ignition, and headed up to the front door, being a silent as he could manage as he tugged off his shoes, and tiptoed towards the staircase.

            But Michael was in the kitchen, and his hearing was as sharp as ever.

            “Castiel?”

            Cas’s heart dropped into his stomach. He could tell just from his brother’s tone that he was in trouble over _something._

            “Yes?” Cas called out, hovering at the food of the stairs with one hand on the railing.

            Michael appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, frowning at Cas with a stern, disapproving expression on his face.

            “Where on Earth have you been? Do you realize that it’s nearly five o’ clock?  Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

            Cas groaned as though the conversation was physically hurting him. “I was tutoring, Michael. It’ll look good when I apply for college.”

            “Well, that’s something at least.” Michael retorted, sounding unimpressed. “You’re going to need that. But that’s no excuse to come home late without any notice. You should have called me.”

            “Yeah, well,” Cas said distractedly, staring longing up the staircase. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

            Michael stared at his brother, his brows knitted together; he seemed to be thinking hard about what he was going to say next. “Listen, Castiel, I know that it’s difficult to be seventeen, and—“

            “ _Michael_ , can we _not_ have this conversation?” Cas cut his brother off, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.

            That wasn’t the right thing to say, obviously. “I am _not_ going to deal with that drama today, Castiel. I’m being serious. You skipped out on church again yesterday—“

            “I didn’t skip out!” Cas said suddenly, his eyes snapping open as he scowled at the injustice in Michael’s words. “I went—“

            “Yeah, I know. You went to church with Balthazar. That’s almost as bad as not going at all. You _know_ I don’t like you hanging out with—“

            “Yeah, I know.” Cas snapped. “You’ve made it pretty clear about a hundred times about since I was ten. Because it would be so much better, I’m sure, if I just didn’t have _any_ friends!”

            “Oh, don’t even go pulling the tragic teenager act on me, Castiel!” Michael’s face was red with anger. “You’re giving me a _headache_. Just…just go. To your room.  For the rest of the night.”

            Cas rolled his eyes and stomped up the stairs, yelling over his shoulder. “That’s where I was going in the first place before you had to _drill_ me for information!”

            Cas’s chest was burning with rage. What was Michael’s problem? He always acted like Cas was getting into trouble, and he _wasn’t_.

            The door to Samandriel’s room was shut, and Cas was thankful that he was keeping himself out of this one. Cas was in no mood to talk about it, even if his youngest brother’s intentions were usually to make him feel better.

            He made a point of slamming his door shut when he stepped into his room, (so that Michael knew he was serious) and wasted no time before flopping onto the bed, and glaring angrily at the wall, wishing the day would just get over with.

 

The following day was tedious. AP History dragged. Calculus dragged. Gym was nothing short of hellish (though Cas found himself much more distracted by Dean in this class than he had ever been before), and the rest of his classes were just more of the same.

            Even tutoring Meg seemed to take longer than usual, and Cas concerned himself, as her session was finishing with the thought that maybe everything had dragged on so much because he had been looking forward to the end of the day more than usual…

            “You really should pay more attention when people are talking to you.” Meg laughed, while Cas stared stupidly up at her.

            “Huh? Sorry, Meg. What were you saying?”

            She picked up her schoolbag, slinging it over her shoulder. “I said: was yesterday as terrible as you thought it was going to be?”

            Cas just stared, his expression blank.

            “Your tutoring. With Dean.”

            “Oh, yes. I mean no. No, it wasn’t so bad, I suppose. I thought it was going to be worse.”

            “Well I’m glad to hear it. See you tomorrow, Clarence.” Meg said with a smile and a wave before leaving the room.

            “Clarence?”

            The voice behind him made Cas jump, and he whirled around in his chair to stare up at Dean’s smirking face. He wasn’t late this time, that was for sure.

            “What’s with the nickname?”

            “Oh my gosh, I didn’t even know you were here yet, you scared me…And, uh, you know that movie, It’s a Wonderful Life? Something about the angel and I’m sort of named after an angel and…I don’t know, I don’t really get it.” Cas waved a dismissive hand, and reached into his bag to pull out his own copy of Oedipus the King from when he studied the play.

            “Okay, let’s get started.” Cas had no idea why, but he felt like he desperately wanted to keep any chance of small talk between them to a minimum, and focus solely on the schoolwork. Maybe it was because he certainly hadn’t turned a blind eye to how attractive the other boy was, and he wanted to push away any chance of developing a crush on him.

            And it was funny, really, how quickly those things could develop. How you could have just _one_ conversation with another person, and all of a sudden you couldn’t stop staring at them, and you keep picking up on mannerisms right from the start, words and phrases that they commonly used…

            For how slowly Cas’s day had moved, his tutoring with Dean went at least three times as fast, and Cas was once again finding himself facing four-thirty much sooner than he had anticipated.

            “Well, we didn’t get to start your character analysis today, but at least we got you caught up on the reading, and you’re understanding it much better. So tomorrow we can get started on that.” Cas spoke, carefully packing his things into his bag.

            “Awesome. Really, I’d be dead meat if I failed this class, so you’re really helping me out here. I mean it.”

            Cas smiled a little bit as he pulled the zip on his bag. “It’s no problem.”

            “And, uh,” Dean continued on, his voice suddenly sounding a bit awkward. “Listen, I was wondering if you aren’t busy all the time with your…school stuff or whatever it is you do, if maybe you wanted to hang out sometime?”

            Cas froze, turning to stare up at Dean, his expression brimming with skepticism.

            His heart was beating way too fast, and he had no idea why Dean would be asking him to hang out. They had spent barely two days together tutoring, and that entire time had been spent talking about Oedipus—nothing that included common interests or would give reason to spend time with each other outside of schoolwork.

            “…Are you making fun of me?” Cas asked shrewdly.

            “What? No! Of course not, why would you think…” Dean frowned at Cas from where he stood. “Okay, listen, this is really dumb but…my brother’s been getting on my case because I haven’t been getting out much as I usually do, and haven’t really been hanging around my friends much.”

            He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck as Cas just stared at him, still frozen with his backpack half closed.

            “So…he wouldn’t stop bothering me about finding some more friends or something. I dunno, it’s dumb, but I just want to get him off my case about it. You don’t have to or anything I just—“

            “No, it’s fine.” Cas was embarrassingly aware of how quickly he answered. He straightened up, hoisting his own bag onto one shoulder and struggling for a moment to capture the other strap so he could pull the bag evenly onto his back. “I mean, if you wanted to hang out or something. I could probably do that.”

            “Great. Well…when are you free?”

            Cas frowned at Dean, thinking about his argument with Michael the previous day, and his desperation to avoid a second row.

            “How about tonight?”

            Dean laughed at first, but the sound quickly died in his throat when he caught the serious expression on Cas’s face.

            “Seriously? Tonight? Well…I have to pick my brother up from school, but… I guess I’m free after that.”

            “Well…” Cas glanced around, suddenly very aware of Lisa’s eyes burning into the back of his head from where she sat at the desk. “I have to talk to two of my teachers about my classes, so…how about you just come pick me up here after you drop off your brother.” That way he could avoid going home at all, at least until later.

            Dean seemed to consider this option for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Alright. That works for me. So…I’ll see you then.”

            He flashed Cas a half-smile that the brunette returned before he headed out the door.

            Cas stood where he was for a long time, listening to the frantic beating of his heart, and trying to ignore the sick combination of giddiness and guilt that was curdling in his stomach, making him feel just a little bit ill.

            He couldn’t get the image of Dean’s smile out of his head.


	2. Pinball Wizard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, trying due to Sam's insistence, to make some new friends, takes Cas out for burgers and pinball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for brief mention of abuse

**Pinball Wizard**

_But I just handed, my pinball crown to him._

            Dean Winchester was trying to make good time without speeding _too_ much as he headed toward the middle school.

            Cas struck him as being pretty introverted, and he hadn’t really expected him to agree to hang out, particularly not that night, but hey, who was he to say no? It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and he certainly didn’t have anywhere better to be. Anyplace was better than home, and after yesterday he wasn’t really eager to be around his father anytime soon.

            Dean was just glad that their dad hardly paid any mind to Sammy anymore. That was what concerned Dean more than anything—Sam being hurt.

            The teen parked the Impala in front of the middle school, and he only had to wait a few short minutes before Sam could be spotted scurrying out the front doors, heading towards the car.

            “Hey, Sammy.” Dean said as his younger brother slid into the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt as Dean shifted to drive and sped off with a cheerful roar from the car. “How was school?”

            “Good.” Sam said, setting his backpack between his feet and turning to look at Dean. “You?”

            “Sucked, but it usually does.” Dean chuckled. “But I’ve got to make this quick today. I’m just dropping you off at home, then I’ll be out. I’ve got plans.”

            Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean. “Wow, did you actually take my advice for once?”

            “What? You act like I _never_ listen to you!”

            Sam just continued to stare, skepticism clear on his face.

            “Whatever. Point is, I’m hanging out with a friend tonight. Happy?”

            “Yes. Did you finally stop ignoring Charlie and Garth?”

            “I haven’t been ignoring them! It’s just that all they ever want to do is play that geeky D&D shit, and they keep trying to rope me into playing with them. But no, it’s not them. Remember I told you I’m getting tutoring for English?”

            Sam nodded.

            “Yeah, it’s the kid who’s tutoring me. ‘Castiel’. Weird-ass name.”

            Sam looked thoughtful for a moment. “Isn’t that Samandriel’s older brother? The name sounds familiar, and it’s not really common.”

            Dean shrugged. “Might be? I think he’s got a big family. They’re all rich and religious or something.”

            That was the thing about living in a small town like they did—everybody seemed to know each other. You mentioned a surname to someone and they could most likely name at least one member of the family. This could have its advantages and disadvantages of course, depending on what kind of status your family had.

            The name Winchester certainly didn’t earn any praise, that was for sure, but Dean didn’t think he could really argue that, not with how his dad was.

            “Is he cool?”

            Dean didn’t mean to laugh at that, but he couldn’t help it. “He’s a bigger geek than you, Sammy. You should see the glasses this guy wears, it’s like he’s just asking to get made fun of. But I don’t really know him that well; I’ve never really talked to him much. He’ll probably try to save me tonight or something. Bet you five minutes in the car and he’ll start going on about Jesus or something.”

            “Dean, you haven’t even given him a chance yet!” Sam said, but the scolding was a bit lost as he was still laughing at Dean’s words.

            They were pulling into the driveway of their home in what seemed like no time, and Sam slid out of the car, picking up his backpack and waving at Dean.

            “See you later. Try not to be too much of a jerk to him.”

            “Yeah, well, try not to be too much of a whiny bitch and I’ll think about it.” Dean said with a teasing smile, already shifting into reverse. “See ya, Sammy. Hey, maybe next time you see me I’ll be a changed man, accepting the _love_ and _grace_ of Jesus Christ into my troubled life!”

            Sam was still laughing as Dean sped back down their street, heading towards the high school to pick up Cas.

            Dean’s home wasn’t far from the school, so he arrived there in what he felt like had been pretty good time, pulling up in front of the entrance where Cas was standing, waiting for him.

            Dean couldn’t help but take in Cas’s appearance as the other teen crossed in front of the Impala on his way to the passenger seat.

            His hair looked as though it had never seen a brush before, which Dean probably wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for how clean-cut the rest of him appeared.

            At the moment he was wearing a sweater with a button up shirt underneath, tucked into his jeans and everything.

            The glasses didn’t help either—a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that looked like they had come right out of the seventies. He must have had very poor eyesight because the lenses were thick and gave his eyes a slightly magnified look.

            “Hello, Dean.” Cas spoke in an almost monotone voice, slinging his backpack off and climbing into the passenger seat.

            “Hey, Cas.” Dean said, giving the boy a half-smile as he shifted into drive, and peeled out of the parking lot. “So. Any ideas of what you want to do?”

            Cas looked confused by the question, tilting his head and knitting his brows, though he was staring straight ahead through the windshield. “I don’t know. I don’t really go out much.”

            Well, this was going to be an entertaining evening.

            “I assumed that you might have had something in mind.” Cas paused a moment before speaking again. “I didn’t eat lunch today, so we could go get something to eat, if you’re hungry.”

            Now they were talking—food was always a good option in Dean’s book. “Sounds awesome. What do you want?”

            Cas didn’t seem to be expecting all the questions. He shrugged, finally turning to stare at Dean, his blue eyes looking huge behind those glasses. “Cheeseburgers are my favorite.”

            Dean smiled for real this time. “Even more awesome. I know just the place. It’s a little bit out of town, though, do you mind?”

            “No, that’s fine.”

            An awkward silence fell between them after that, and Dean turned up the stereo before it could drag on too long, the Black Sabbeth tape he was listening to filling the space of the car with loud guitar riffs.

            Cas stared at the radio but didn’t say anything.

            He could only imagine what kind of weirdo Jesus-y music the kid listened to.

            Well, if he didn’t like Dean’s music, that was is own problem, because Hell would freeze over before he changed it.

            They rode the rest of the way like that, the volume of the music blocking any chance for conversation.

            Cas was staring out the passenger window, looking forlorn, or bored, or something that Dean couldn’t quite place. His expressions were difficult to read.

            Dean was becoming a big doubtful about the situation. Maybe asking Cas to hang out hadn’t been the best idea.

            Not that he had a problem with the guy, but Dean was getting an itching feeling that the other teen wasn’t really excited to be there.

            Twenty minutes later, they arrived at their destination; a bar that served what were, in Dean’s opinion, some of the best burgers in the area.

            They both climbed out of the Impala, but Cas froze, staring at the establishment with an apprehensive look.

            “…Is this a bar?”

            “Yeah, why?” But he didn’t really need to ask that question. “It’s fine. I know the owners, so we can get in.”

            “We’re not going to drink, are we?”

            “Not unless you want to.” Dean laughed, but quickly stifled the noise at the look on the other’s face. “I’m kidding. They wouldn’t serve us alcohol anyway. Come on, and don’t look at me like that. They’re cheeseburger are to die for, I swear. You’ll thank me when you get your dinner.”

            Cas still looked a little unsure, but followed Dean in without further protest.

            Dean smiled and waved at one of the bartenders as they headed for a booth.

            It had been a while since Dean had been there, but his favorite booth was still the same as ever.

            The server was there in an instant, taking their drink orders (Cas ordered a cherry soda and Dean shrugged, asking for the same thing), but as soon as she was gone Dean was faced with the task of making conversation with the boy who was _staring_ at him from across the table.

            “So, Cas, uh, any plans for college?” Dean hated that question. It was the absolute most generic question that people jumped to when talking to anyone between the ages of sixteen to twenty-three. It made Dean angry whenever people asked him that, and yet there he was, unable to find anything else to ask Cas about.

            “Yes, I’m going to move to California.” Cas answered instantly, his eyes widening a little at the statement. “I’m going to go to school out there.”

            “Wow, so what are you going to study, then?”

            Cas smiled feebly, and Dean wondered what he was really thinking. “I don’t know, I guess. Maybe something in the medical field, but I’m not worried about it. I just want to get out. I’ll work on getting my BA, and then figure the rest out when I get there.”

            “You don’t like it here?”

            Cas raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”

            Dean had to laugh at that. Cas had a good point, there. There really wasn’t anything appealing in their town—at least not for Dean, and apparently not for Cas, either. He couldn’t help but find his curiosity peaked at Cas’s insistence to move so far away from this life. What could a rich, pampered kid like him find in this town to make him so unhappy?

            “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It does suck here.” Dean didn’t really plan on staying—not after Sam graduated and went off to college like he inevitably would—but he didn’t really have any specific plans. He didn’t know where he would go; he just knew that it wasn’t where he was now.

            Dean was trying to think of a new topic of conversation, but Cas got there first.

            “Did you get in a fight?” He asked bluntly, his eyes searching Dean’s face

            “What?” But Dean’s heart skipped a beat, because he knew what Cas was talking about.

            “Your face is bruised. You look like you got in a fight.”

            Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and quickly looked away from Cas. Why did he have to choose that for a conversation topic? Dean didn’t really like the idea of casually telling Cas, whom he barely knew, about how his dad had let him have it the previous night after coming home late due to his tutoring.

            Luckily, the return of their waitress served as a convenient distraction, dropping off their drinks and checking if they were ready to order their meals.

            “I’ll have a plain cheeseburger with catsup and lettuce, please.” Cas said politely as the girl jotted it down, then turned to Dean.

            “Bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon, extra everything.” He said, flashing a smile to her before she scurried off to put in their orders.

            “So did you win?” Cas said once she was gone.

            “Huh?”

            “The fight. Or did you just get punched.”

            Dean frowned. He had hoped that Cas wouldn’t have returned to the subject. “Yeah, it wasn’t really a fight, I just pissed off the wrong person, that was all. So, you’ve got a big family, don’t you? Don’t you have a lot of siblings or something?”

            Cas stared. It was clear that he saw right through Dean’s evasion of the question, but he didn’t carry on with his line of questioning, something that Dean was very thankful for.

            “Yes, I have four brothers. Samandriel is the youngest, then me, Gabriel, Michael, and Lucifer.”

            “Damn, that’s a hell of a lot of testosterone for one household.”

            “Well, Lucifer and Gabriel don’t live at home anymore, so it’s just Michael, Samandriel and I now.”

            “And your parents?”

            Cas shrugged. “They travel for work. They aren’t really around much at all. Michael kind of plays a parental role, I guess.” He pursed his lips at the last bit, unable to mask the bitter tone to his words.

            “What, you don’t get along with him?”

            “I don’t really get along with any of them very well. Samandriel’s all right, Michael is a nightmare, Gabriel—well, it was a blessing when he moved out and Lucifer…we don’ really talk about him. He had a drug problem and got into a lot of bad stuff, and moved out about six years ago. I haven’t seen him since, and nobody really talks about him.”

            “Wow, talk about family drama, right?”

            “You’re telling me. That’s why I want to get out of here so badly. Get away from all of them. What about you?”

            “Me? You mean family?” They were treading dangerously near subjects that Dean didn’t want to address again. “I’ve got a younger brother, Sam. Bet you two would get along, you’re both a couple of geeks.”

            Dean smiled but Cas didn’t. He just looked mildly perturbed at the comment, and unsure of how to respond.

            “Uh, it was a joke. I was just teasing you.”

            “Oh,” Cas actually looked a little relieved, and gave a weak smile.

            “But yeah, Sam’s great. Super smart, like he wants to be a lawyer or something cool like that. He’s about the only reason I haven’t dropped out of school and skipped town already.”

            The waitress reappeared with their burgers, asking them if they needed anything else before turning to tend to her other tables.

            “Alright, about time.” Dean said excitedly, not giving a moments hesitation before digging into his burger.

            He watched as Cas took his first bite, waiting eagerly for the boy’s reaction. “So, what’d I tell you? When’s the last time you had a burger this good around here?”

            Cas smiled, his mouth still half full and nodded. “This…makes me very happy. This is a pretty good burger.”

            “See? And you were _all_ worried because we were eating at a bar.” Dean said with a roll of his eyes.

            “Well I didn’t know. My brother would freak if he knew I was at a bar of all places, drinking or not.”

            Dean was glad that the conversation seemed to becoming easier. Cas was a bit quiet, but he wasn’t so bad.

            “You know, I half expected you to put your head down and say grace before we ate.”

            Cas’s lip twitched. “You must hear things from the kids at school. That I’m…what, a Jesus freak?”

            “Well, that was what I thought. So you’re not, then?”

            “I don’t go around telling people that they’re going to burn or hand out pamphlets trying to convert, if that’s what you’re asking. But I am Catholic, and my faith is very important to me. But we only say grace when we’re at home, not really when we go out to eat.”

            “So you’re whole family is Catholic?”

            “Yes. Well, most of us, at least. I don’t know about Lucifer anymore, like I said, nobody really talks about him. But we all follow some sect of Christianity, most of us Catholic. Though I’ve started exploring out of it, a bit…I started going to church with my cousin, instead.” Cas shrugged, biting into his burger again.

            Dean wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d ever even gone to church before, and was pretty sure that he hadn’t. His family was about as far from religious as one could get—what was left of it, at least. He could hardly imagine what completely different lives the two of them had grown up in. It was almost hard to believe they were hanging out together.

            “So what’s it like having such a big family? I’ve just got my brother and my dad, and that’s the whole Winchester family.”

            “Consider yourself lucky.” Cas said miserably. “It’s awful. Immediate family aside, everyone is just so self-righteous and they’re pretty two-faced, too. The only one I really get along with is my cousin, Balthazar. We’re very close.”

            “You guys all have some weird-ass names.”

            “Most of us have biblical names. My brothers and I are all named after angels.” Cas let the shadow of a smirk toy at his lips. “I always thought ‘Lucifer’ was a bit of a tasteless choice, but I guess it was fitting. My name is based off of ‘Cassiel’, but my parents thought ‘Castiel’ sounded better. I like it.”

            “That’s pretty cool. My brother and I are named after my grandparents on my mom’s side.”

            They conversation continued on about family and names for a little while, and it was just as they were finishing their dinners that Dean could see Cas’s eyes straying back to the bruise on his face.

            “Hey,” He stood up, looking for a good distraction. “Let’s play pinball.”

            “Pinball?”

            Dean laughed. “Tell me you know what pinball is? You’re not _that_ sheltered, are you?”

            Cas looked a little offended at this. “Of course I know what pinball is. I’ve never played it before, though.”

            “You’re kidding me. Well, come on, I’ll teach you. They’ve got some cool ones.”

            Dean tugged his wallet from his pocket and dropped enough cash onto the table to pay for both of their meals, plus a tip, and gestured for Cas to follow him to the back of the bar, where there was a set up of a few arcade games, some electronic slot machines, a jukebox, and a couple of pinball machines.

            Dean immediately made for the _Star Wars_ themed one; it had been his favorite ever since he had come here as a child.

            He fished a handful of quarters out of his pocket (he had been hoping to come here today, and made sure he was prepared), and deposited fifty cents into the machine, starting up the flashing lights and light-saber sound effects.

            Cas watched curiously as Dean flicked the buttons on the side of the machine with expertise, his tongue sticking between his teeth in concentration.

            Dean was a master of pinball. He had never met anybody who could take him at the game, and he was proud to hold that title. Sammy had always tried to beat his high score, but he could never make it very high up the ladder.

            He was able to keep the game going for a good few minutes before hitting a game over, Darth Vader’s voice echoing through the machine and insisting that he ‘join the dark side’.

            A list of high scores scrolled over the screen on the top of the game, the first three reading the name DEAN W.

            “Look at that.” Dean said, gesturing proudly to his scores with a smug expression. “All three top scores are mine. I am the undefeated pinball champ.”

            Cas didn’t look impressed. He just raised his eyebrows at Dean, his expression giving Dean a bit of a ‘good for you’ sort of vibe.

            “Here, I’ll show you how to play. Which one do you want to play? _Indiana Jones_ or _Star Wars_?”

            Cas glanced at the two machines and turned back to Dean with a shrug. “I’ve never seen either of those movies.

            “ _What!?_ ” Was this kid for real? How could somebody go through _seventeen_ years of life without ever seeing either of those movies? “Are you fucking with me? You’ve seriously never seen them before?”

            “No…”

            “Isn’t that against your religion or something?”

            “No…”

            “Okay, wow, well, I’m going to have you play the _Star Wars_ one for now, but you are going to _have_ to watch these sometime. Maybe I’ll make you watch them with me sometime…”

            Dean drew a few more quarters from his pocket, and dropped them into Cas’s palm. “Go ahead, show me what you can do, Novak.”

            Cas stared for a moment (he seemed to have an uncomfortable habit of doing that) before turning to the machine and starting it up.

            Cas was terrible and Dean laughed at him.

            “Well, you show me how to do it, then!” Cas snapped, apparently irritated by Dean’s laughter.

            “Alright, alright. Here, look,” Dean started a new game, and put his hands over Cas’s on the buttons. “See, you’re just randomly hitting the buttons. You have no _form_. You’ve got to pay attention, don’t just button smash.”

            He pushed Cas’s fingers down on the button, causing the levers to flick the metal ball at just the right time to skyrocket up the machine, sound effects flaring as he earned an enormous amount of points in one move.                    

            “See? _Be_ the ball, Cas.” Dean joked, still laughing at the mildly disgruntled look on Cas’s face.

            But Cas apparently had determination. And he was a quick learner. _Very_ quick. His first few games were awful, but he soon gained a hang of it, fiercely staring at the machine in a way that lead Dean to believe that he might be a bit of a perfectionist.

            Forty-five minutes later, Cas appeared next to Dean, who had moved over to the _Indiana Jones_ themed game. 

            He held his hand out, demanding that they acquire more quarters.

            “Oh my God,” Dean laughed. He thought it was hilarious. “I think you just formed an addiction.”

            “No. I’m going to beat your high score.”

            That was even funnier. “Really? You think you’re going to beat my high score? Fat chance. Nobody has ever even placed—“

            Cas pointed to the machine he had been playing, where the name CAS N now flashed in the 3rd place slot.

            Dean wasn’t laughing anymore.

            “What the fuck? How did you do that? Are you cheating?”

            “I want to get more quarters. I’m going to beat your score.”

            “Like hell you are! Get your own quarters.”

            Cas didn’t seem to smile much, but this time his lips split into a grin. “Afraid of competition?”

            “No. It’s just getting late.”

            “Okay…”

            “I’m serious!” He was, actually. Well, initially he had just been trying to get Cas away from the pinball machine, but as soon as he mentioned it, he had looked at the clock. He was already going to be in heaps of trouble with his father. “Look, see? It’s going on nine o’ clock already. C’mon, champ, let’s get going. You can fail to beat my score next time.”

            Cas scoffed as he was dragged away from the games. “I could’ve beaten you.”

            “No you wouldn’t. How did you even do that?”

            “I’m smart.”

            “So? Sammy’s smart, and he’s never come close to beating me!”

            “It’s not hard. It’s just simple physics once you get the handle of it and—“

            “If you’re about to get all scientific on me about pinball, don’t. You’ll just ruin it.”

            “You’re just mad that I almost took your place.”

            Dean groaned. “Alright, I promise we’ll come here for burgers again and you can _try_ , even if it’s useless, to beat my score. Deal?”

            Cas considered this for a moment before nodding.

            “Good.”

            They had made it out to the Impala, and both climbed in together, stomachs full and spirits high.

            Dean started up the car, the music instantly blaring.

            While he was a little annoyed by Cas’s apparent natural talent at pinball, it had been a surprisingly good night, and Cas had turned out to be better company than he had imagined.

            So, he was a little bit odd, but Dean could see them hanging out a bit. Well, they had to, anyway, now that Cas was tutoring him.

            The music came to a sudden stop, startling Dean from his thoughts, and he turned to see Cas, who had ejected the Black Sabbath tape and was putting in a cassette tape jack that was attached to the boy’s ipod.

Oh _fuck_ no.

Dean slammed on the breaks before they had even left the parking lot, jerking both of them foreword with a sharp stop.

“What the _hell_ are you doing!?”

Cas stared around, looking terrified, searching the surrounding parking lot apparently for some sort of exterior problem.

“Who said you could fuck around with the music?”

Cas stared, his mouth open. “Are you serious? I think you just gave me whiplash! Are you crazy?”

“Are you!? You changed the music! I didn’t give you permission to touch the stereo!”

Cas was still staring as though he couldn’t believe Dean was so worked up over such a thing.

There was no way they were going to sit there and listen to some weirdo Christian Jesus music or whatever it was that Cas listened to.

“I don’t like Black Sabbath.” Cas said, finally, as though that solved the matter.

Dean just stared. He didn’t even think Cas would know who Black Sabbath _was_.

“Okay…just…first of all, no, you’re wrong, and second of all,” It took a lot of effort for Dean to even give Cas this much leeway, and he hoped the other appreciated it. “There’s a box of tapes under your seat. You can choose anything from there. That’s _it_. No friggin’ ipods in my car.”

Dean thought he saw Cas roll his eyes in a way that implied that Dean was overreacting, but the blond chose to ignore it.

Cas was shuffling through the tapes, and Dean couldn’t help but watch him for a reaction from the corner of his eye, but the other boy was expressionless.

After a few minutes of silence, Cas finally picked out a tape, pushing it into the player. The music started up in a low bass line.

           

_Here come old flat top,_

_He come groovin’ up slowly_

_He got joo joo eyeballs_

_He got holy rollers_

            Dean was unimpressed. He let the first verse pass before finally speaking, “The Beatles are alright.”

            “Alright?” Cas said in an incredulous tone. “Do you have any idea what they did for music? John Lennon was a _genius_.”

            “He wasn’t the only Beatle.”

            Cas just shrugged as though Dean’s opinion on the matter wasn’t of much importance.

            But he was a bit surprised.

            “What else do you listen to?” He inquired, glancing at Cas who was staring right back.

            “Hmm…Well, the Beatles are my favorite, hands down. But I like Elton, The Doors, The Smiths…nothing after ’89, really. I’ve got a lot of vinyl at home.”

            “Seriously?” Dean said, the excitement in his voice wasn’t even close to subtle. Cas was the last person he expected to have any decent taste in music. “My favorite is Zeppelin. No competition”

            “Yeah? I like Zeppelin.” Cas said with a nod. “Some of their stuff is difficult to play. They favored the twelve-string a lot, and I don’t have one…”

            “You…you play guitar?”

            “Yeah, since I was a kid. Why?” Cas stared at Dean, an inquisitive expression clouding his features. Dean was already getting used to him making that face.

            “You just don’t…you don’t seem like the type, is all. Guitar, classic rock…really?”

            “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess it’s kind of weird how I got into it all. When we were young, we never had many movies in the house, so my _favorite_ movie, I’d just watch it over and over. The Wizard of Oz.”

            Dean was grinning. “I can already see where this is going.”

            Cas returned the smile, nodding. “Yeah, my cousin got me listening to Pink Floyd that way, and I suppose it was all just downhill from there. Started guitar lessons not long after. I don’t know what I’d even do if I didn’t have music as a hobby.”

            “Hey, I’ve got a lot of old records, too. I should bring them over sometime and we can jam. My record player broke ages ago…”

            Cas’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. “Yeah, that’d be great, actually! Balthazar was never really _that_ into music, he just thought the _Dark Side of the Moon_ thing was cool, so I don’t really have anyone to talk music with.”

            “Hell, yeah. So what’s your favorite Zeppelin album…”

            Their conversation carried on the entire drive back home, and Dean hadn’t even noticed how quickly they were arriving back into town. Time had flown by with their engrossing conversation.

 

_Because the world is round,_

_It turns me on._

_Because the wind is high…_

            The music was still playing strong when Dean pulled into the school parking lot, deserted save for Cas’s silver Cadillac.

            “Well,” Cas said, staring out the windshield in the same way that he had earlier. “Thanks for hanging out with me.”

            “I should be thanking you.” Dean chuckled. “I’m the one who asked you. But yeah, it was good, even if you’re a bit deluded in thinking you can kick my ass at pinball. But we’ll have to share records soon.”

            “Yes, definitely.” Cas opened the door, sliding out into the dark parking lot and moving to unlock his car. “So, I’ll see you after school tomorrow, then.”

            “Yeah, see you then.” Dean said with a short wave before driving out of the parking lot, heading back home.

 

            Half an hour later, Dean slammed the door to his bedroom shut, his chest heaving with anger. His mouth stung and he tasted blood. He probably had a split lip, but he didn’t care to check at the moment.

            The happiness from his good day had been sucked dry, replaced with his father’s hateful words swirling around in his head.

            He shut off the light, and moved to his bed, curling under the covers and burying his face in his pillow, indifferent to whether he bled on the sheets or not.

            “Dean?” Sam’s voice was filled with concern as he knocked softly on his brother’s door.

            There were few times that Dean ignored Sam, and this was one of them. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, or see anyone. He just wanted to fall asleep.

            Same gave up after about another minute, retreating back to his room, and Dean was left alone in dark silence, John Winchester’s words the only voice he could hear as he drifted off into an uneasy, troubled sleep.

            _Worthless…_

           

 


	3. Can't Fight This Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Dean and Castiel begin to grow closer in their friendship, Dean visits Cas's house for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning in this chapter for brief mention of abuse!

**Can’t Fight This Feeling**

_Cause I feel so secure when we’re together; you give my life direction, you make everything so clear._

            Cas stared into his mug at the final remaining dregs of his Americano, trying to keep the sheepish grin from crawling over his features.

            “…So I’ve been tutoring him for almost two weeks now, and we haven’t hung out since we got burgers that day, but…”

            “But he’s coming over to your place today.” Balthazar finished with a nod.

            “Yeah, well, we just figured that maybe we could move the tutoring to our houses instead of doing it at school, because that way we could maybe listen to music and…We keep talking about sharing vinyl…”

            “Sharing your vinyl? Is that what you guys call it now? It’s been a while since high school for me…”

            “That’s not what I meant, Balthazar!” Cas snapped, a little louder than he had intended. “Music! Like records! I was going to show him my collection!”

            His cousin laughed at Cas’s reaction, which just managed to irritated Cas further.

            “Calm down, Casie, I’m just teasing you.” Balthazar leaned back in his chair and sighed when Cas didn’t respond. “What’s wrong? You should be excited that your boy-crush is coming over.”

            Cas frowned. He knew Balthazar was right, and he _was_ excited (despite the nervous drop he felt in his stomach when he thought about it), but there was a problem that was a bit hard to gets around, and it kept tugging at the back of his mind.

“You mean aside from all the obvious issues that come from having a crush on a guy?” He replied with a raise of his eyebrows. “Well, Dean’s reputation isn’t exactly a secret…he get around a lot.”

            “So, what, you’re worried he’d be un-loyal if you two got together? Or you don’t like that he’s been with a lot of other people?”

            Cas shook his head, flushing a bit at his cousin’s implication that they could ever ‘get together.’ Neither of those things had even occurred to him, oddly enough. Dean didn’t really strike him as the unfaithful type, and he supposed that because he had always _known_ that Dean slept around, that didn’t really bother him either. “No, he’s a good person. Loyalty doesn’t worry me…and it doesn’t actually bother me much that he’s been with a lot of people it’s just…he gets around with a lot of _girls_ , I guess is what I meant.”

            “So?”

            “He’s straight, Balthazar.”

            “Oh, come on. You don’t know that. Have you asked him?”

            “Are you kidding me? Of course not! Yeah, that’d be a great topic of conversation. ‘Hey, Dean, no ulterior motives behind this question or anything, but are you interested in guys?’ Yeah. I don’t think so.”

            “Well don’t say it like _that_. Though I suppose subtlety was never really your forte…”

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “Listen, you just need to relax. You’re so worked up about this. You’ve been tutoring with him nearly every day for two weeks, what is there to be shy about all of a sudden?”

            “He’s going to see my room.”

            “And? What’s wrong with that? Is it a mess?”

            “Maybe. I don’t know if Michael has cleaned.”

            Balthazar raised his eyebrows. “Your brother cleans your room for you?”

            Cas shrugged. “Yeah. Why? He hates when I let it get messy so eventually he usually just cleans it himself.”

            Cas was a little surprised when Balthazar laughed.

            “What!?”

            “You’re such a baby, Casie.”

            “I am not!” Cas said with indignation. So what if Michael cleaned his room sometimes? Cas had better things to be worrying about than a few dirty clothes on his floor.

            “What’re you going to do when you move out?” Balthazar leaned across the table, his arms folded, flashing Cas a grin that was not returned; Cas just stared back, bemused.

            “You don’t even clean your room on your own. You’re going to be a hot mess when you don’t have Michael to baby you all the time.”

            Cas scowled at the comment. Balthazar had it all wrong. “You think he _babys_ me? Do you have _any_ idea what it’s like living with Michael? He’s a _nightmare_.”

            “I’m sure he is. I mean, having him clean your room and do all of your laundry…and cooking you _dinner_. Your life must just be _hell_.”

            Cas didn’t find his cousin’s sarcasm funny in the slightest. Balthazar just didn’t _get it._

            “Balthazar, don’t act like you don’t know how Michael is.”

            “Yeah, yeah, I know. He’s my cousin too, you know. I’m _far_ from forgetting what a self-righteous little bitch he can be.”

            Cas wasn’t particularly fond of Balthazar’s language, but his description was pretty spot-on nonetheless.

            The two were silent for a moment before Cas finally set his mug down with a quiet _clank._

“I’d better head home now…He’ll be coming over soon, so…”

            “Don’t sound so sad about it.” Blathazar said with a laugh, standing up. “Just loosen up. You’ll be fine. You’re already friends, after all.”

 

           

Cas was sitting on the couch with Samandriel, staring at the TV without really watching it as he waited for Dean to make an appearance.

            He knew Balthazar had been right, and that his worries were completely baseless, but he just couldn’t help but be nervous.

            To be quite honest, he didn’t hold any sort of hope that his friendship with Dean was going to delve into anything more than just that. He could daydream all he wanted, but that didn’t change how far-fetched the notion of that working out was.What worried him was the idea of Dean catching on.

            What if he realized that Cas was gay, or that Cas had a crush on him? What if he found out and he didn’t want to be friends with Cas anymore? Dean wasn’t really the judgmental type, but their town wasn’t really known for it’s…open-mindedness.

            Cas’s heart sank at the thought. He’d never been very social, and while he normally didn’t mind it, it was nice once in a while to have a friend to hang around. He didn’t want to loose that. Especially not when it was Dean.

            Cas nearly jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang.

            He dashed to the door, pulling it open to Dean’s grinning face, standing casually on the doorstep and making Cas swoon as easy as a wave of his hand.

            “Hey, Cas.”

            “Hello, Dean.”

            Cas stepped aside to let Dean inside.

            The boy wandered over the threshold of the door, staring around with wide green eyes at the room.

            Samandriel peered over the back of the couch at the two boys.

            “Samandriel,” Cas said, jerking his head for his brother to come over there. “This is my friend Dean. He’s the one I’m tutoring. Dean, this is my youngest brother, Samandriel.” He made sure to give his brother a look that clearly read _don’t you dare embarrass me_. That was the last thing he needed.

            The two exchanged greetings and not much else before Samandriel scurried off to his room.

            “So…well, this is it.” Cas said after a moment of silence, holding his arms out as though presenting his house.

            “It’s…damn, you guys must be loaded. I knew you were rich but…You could probably fit my whole house in this room.”

            Cas didn’t really know how to respond to that, so he just smiled uncomfortably. “Do you want me to show you around?”

            “Sure.”

            Cas led Dean out of the living space and into the spacious kitchen. Sliding glass doors led outside to the porch and—

            “You guys have a _pool_?” Dean exclaimed, ignoring most of the kitchen and staring out the door. “An _in ground_ pool?”

            “Well…yeah. A lot of the people in our neighborhood do. It’s too cold now, though. We just closed it down last week.”

            “Wow...” Dean wandered over to the window to get a better look at the pool, and turned to Cas with a skeptical quirk of his eyebrow. “Is that…do you guys seriously have a mini _tennis court_?”

            Cas stared. “Yeah, Michael likes that sort of thing. I think that was a birthday gift to him a few years ago…”     

            “A birthday gift? Are you _friggin’_ kidding me? You guys are like _stupid_ rich.”

            “Um…okay.” Cas wasn’t really sure what that meant, so he just continued to watch as Dean progressed around the kitchen, staring at the tiled floors and granite countertops. He paused in front of the refrigerator.

            It’s surface was barely visible as it was covered in papers and drawings still left up from some of the boys’ childhoods.

            Dean laughed and pointed at one of the magnets that read, ‘Look what Cassandra did!’ that held up a drawing clearly created with a child’s hand that depicted four people who were probably The Beatles.

            “Is that yours?”

            Cas flushed. “That—they didn’t have one that said ‘Castiel’, so Gabriel—it’s stupid. Lucifer’s says ‘Lucy’, at least.” Why hadn’t he taken some of those stupid things down before Dean had come over?

            Dean’s eyes left the fridge and focused on a large board on the wall next to it; half cork board, half dry erase. The dry erase side held a sort of chart that had Michael, Castiel, and Samandriel’s names all written in different rows. Gabriel and Lucifer’s names could still vaguely be read even though they had been erased after the boys moved out.

            “You guys actually have a chore list? What do you get like gold stars or something?” He snorted.

            “Can we not talk about the chore list?”

            But Dean’s eyes were still locked on the board a grin on his face as he moved to read the paper pinned to the other half that listed the ‘Novak Household Rules’.

            The beginning was mostly things like, _Leave a note when you leave_ , and _Be home by eight o’ clock sharp_ , but the further the list progressed things got more specific such as, _Samandriel can only play his trumpet from 2-5 pm and not on Sundays,_ and _Wednesday nights are Michael’s quiet night_. Several things had also been written in with pen and scribbled out (mostly by Cas who took issue with some of Michael’s rules).

            “Why does this say, ‘If Cas is going to complain about detergent he can do his own laundry.’?”

            “Okay, yeah, that’s enough of the kitchen. How about we just go to my room?” Cas grumbled, grabbing Dean by his shirtsleeve and dragging him from the kitchen. Perhaps a tour of the house hadn’t been such a brilliant idea.

            They had _just_ made it to the top of the stairs and Cas thought they were going to make it safely to his room when Michael made his appearance.

            He was just walking out of his own bedroom when he glanced up, pausing on his way through the hallway to speak to the two.

            “Afternoon, Castiel. Is this your friend you were telling me about?”

            “Er…yeah, Michael, this is Dean. The one I tutor. Dean, this is Michael.”

            “Wow, so you’re the infamous Mike I hear so much about from Cas?” Dean said, holding out his hand to the other.

            Cas visibly cringed at Dean’s words; if there was any confrontation he’d like to avoid it was this one.

            “It’s Michael.” Michael replied stiffly, shaking Dean’s hand but with a reluctant air. “I hear Cas is helping you with English.”

            “Yeah, I suck at English. But Cas is a friggin’ genius or something so he’s been helping me out a ton.”

            Michael pursed his lips and glanced at Cas. He looked as though he were holding back several choice words to say to the two of them, but after a moment of what appeared to contain a deep internal struggle, he cracked a forced smile and nodded at Dean.

            “Well, I’m glad he’s helping you out with that, then. You two just keep it down, all right? That means no _blaring_ your music, Castiel.”

            Cas groaned. “I don’t _blare_ my music, Michael.”

            But before Michael could retort Cas made quick work of dragging Dean the final few steps down the hallway to his room and slipping inside. He wanted to get away from his brother as quickly as possible.

            “Sorry about that…” Cas said with a relieved sigh and he shut the door behind them.

            “So that’s the douche-bag older brother?”

            Cas scoffed. “Yeah. It gets way worse than that, too. He was sort of trying to put on a face for company, but he didn’t give it too much effort.” He said, moving across the room to get his records. “Probably because it’s you.”

            “What’s wrong with me?”

            “There’s nothing wrong with _you_ but your family does have a reputation. Michael probably doesn’t hold your opinion very high…”

            Dean didn’t respond, and Cas could have kicked himself for saying that. Dean usually made it clear that, with the exception of Sam, he didn’t really enjoy talking about his family.

            “What do you want to listen to?” Cas asked, desperate for a distraction. “You can look through my records, if you want.”

            Dean moved across the room to where Cas was crouched in front of his record box, bending down next to the other teen so he could get a better look.

            Their shoulders brushed and Cas felt goosebumps.

            They didn’t talk for a few moments as Dean looked over Cas’s music selection, and it gave Cas time to just admire the other.

            He had felt so nervous before, but as soon as Dean had showed up (with the exception of a few embarrassing things around the house) Cas felt perfectly fine. Dean was just so easy to be around and get along with.

            Balthazar had been right. They were already friends, so what was he worrying so much about? If Dean had disliked Cas, he certainly wasn’t the type to beat around the bush and feign friendship. He wouldn’t be there if he didn’t enjoy Cas’s company.

            Dean had just extracted a Grateful Dead album from the collection and stood up, when he found a distraction in the form of Cas’s guitars, both sitting on stands next to the record player. His eyes lit up at the sight of them.

            “Oh right, I almost forgot you played.” Dean said, making Cas’s heart skip a beat or two when he turned that look on him. “Forget records for now, why don’t you play something for me?” The smile playing at his lips with those words were enough to make Cas melt.

            The suggestion nearly gave him chills. It wasn’t as though he weren’t confident in his playing skills, but there was just something about playing music for someone that always stuck Cas as a bit…romantic.

            “Sure.” He said with a shrug, trying to sound as casual as possible while he picked up his acoustic.

            The teen settled onto his bed with the instrument propped on his knee, his heart racing a little faster as Dean took the spot next to him, their knees touching.

            Cas searched his mind frantically for every song that he knew without sheet music or tabs, trying to pick out what he was going to play.

            It had to be something good.

            Something good, but not _too_ suggestive. The last thing he needed was to scare Dean away by getting all unintentionally romantic on him.

            He plucked at the strings haphazardly for a moment, not really making any sort of melody as he thought, finally placing his finger on the song he wanted. Dean favored Zeppelin, so he figured that was always a good way to go.

            Cas struck up the opening chords to the song—it was probably his favorite by them—already calming himself by the rhythmic strumming of the pick over the strings. Playing always felt natural and was the best remedy for his nerves.

            Cas didn’t plan on singing along with the melody; he had a rather poor singing voice that he wasn’t exactly eager to share with Dean.

            But he was pleasantly surprised when Dean picked up the vocals on his own.

            “Measuring a summer’s day, I only find it slips away to grey…The hours, they bring me pain.” His voice was soft and pleasant, and Cas realized he shouldn’t be surprised that Dean could sing well. It suited him.

            An overwhelming sense of affection washed over Cas and he failed to extinguish the smile gracing his lips. There was something comforting and maybe a little bit intimate to him about being able to share music with Dean like this. He had never been comfortable around someone like this; it was almost unreal. He even chimed in a little bit himself at the chorus, keeping his own voice quiet enough to be drowned out by Dean’s, but still barely audible.

            “Tangerine…tangerine…living reflection from a dream. I was her love, she was my queen, and now a thousand years between…”

            Dean was able to harmonize perfectly with Cas’s playing, and not a single note seemed to fall flat—though Cas might have just been biased because he liked Dean so much.

            Cas played out the last few chords of the song, letting them ring out through his room. He felt dumb because he couldn’t get himself to stop smiling, but everything about this was just too perfect.

            The silence fell between them for only a few moments before Dean insisted on another song, a request that Cas was now eager to comply with.

            It wasn’t long before that one song escalated into a full out jam session.. Cas eventually traded his acoustic in favor of the electric guitar, and the two poured over guitar tabs on Cas’s laptop, searching for song after song to play.

            Cas had a knack for guitar, and even aside from his years of practice, he was great at memorization, so it never took more than a few wobbly notes on a new tab before he had a song down enough to play.

            The evening was drawing on when Cas’s room was filled with the loud riffs of his guitar, strapped over his shoulder, Dean’s voice accompanying the notes as he sang into an invisible microphone.

            “Some dancers have a good time! Broke all the rules, played all the fools! Yeah, yeah, they-they-they blew our minds! And I was shakin’ at the knees!” He sang loud, trying to make his voice heard over Cas’s guitar despite not having an actual microphone. “Could I come again please? Yeah they ladies were too kind!”

            Cas was pretty sure he had never had such a good time with anyone in his entire life—maybe not even with Balthazar. The loud music vibrated through his bones, his amp cranked up higher than he normally ever played, and he was amazed at how _natural_ it felt, every bit of his anxiety from earlier washed away by the music and by Dean’s singing.

            He had quickly gotten over his shyness about his abysmal singing as well, and joined in with Dean once more at the chorus.

            “You’ve been—Thunderstruck!” They sang in union. “Thunderstruck! Yeah, yeah, yeah! Thunderstruck!”

            Cas didn’t know he could have fallen harder for Dean before that day. He was pretty sure it had stared somewhere around that first smile when they started their tutoring two weeks back, and the pinball and cheeseburgers had just built off of that. The discovery of _music_ together had been what held Cas in, but _this_ was really sealing the deal for him.

            He couldn’t keep his eyes from the way Dean’s lips formed around each word, the shadow of a smile gracing each lyric in a way that was almost smug.

            Cas’s prior romantic life was scarce (if you could even call it that), and he had only received a few (very awkward and regretful) kisses in his life, but even so all he could think about as his fingers worked expertly at the frets on his guitar was kissing those lips that manage to grab Cas’s attention so effortlessly.

            The door burst open so suddenly that Cas actually jumped.

            “Castiel!” Michael roared from the doorway, his face red with anger. “Do you have any idea how loud you two are being!?”

            Cas and Dean both cut the singing immediately, and there was a loud scratching sound of Cas’s pick against the guitar strings as he halted his playing, pressing his palm against the strings to silence the last ringing notes.

            “Since when have you _ever_ bee aloud to play that loudly? We have neighbors, Castiel! And I thought you two were studying!”

            The two boys exchanged looks, and Cas cleared his throat.

            “Uh, we are studying. It’s…for a project. For school. We’re relating the, er, thematic devices in Oedipus the King to…AC/DC.” Cas couldn’t even say it with a straight face, and Dean snorted loudly, trying and failing to stifle his laughter.

            This had been a bad choice. Michael swelled angrily, his gaze zeroing in on Cas. “If I hear another _note_ from that guitar of yours I’m taking it away for a week! Dinner is going to be ready at six-thirty and I want your friend _out_ of here by then!”

            Cas was pretty sure it must have taken a great deal of effort from Michael to _not_ slam the door on his way out, and it took all but three seconds after Michael had left before the two of them nearly collapsed onto the floor, both shaking with laughter.

            “Oh my gosh,” Cas gasped through peals of laughter. “D-did you see his face? H-he’s going to _murder_ me later! If I’m not at school on Monday you’ll know why!”

            “Cas, that was the worst lie I’ve ever heard! Were you even trying?”

            It probably took a solid five minutes for the boys to calm down after that. Once the stitches in their sides had ebbed, and their breath had been caught, the two had decided it was time to leave the music up to the professionals.

            Cas put in the Grateful Dead album that Dean had chosen earlier (though the volume was now kept considerably low), and the two lied back on Cas’s bed, staring up at the ceiling.

            The music had been great, but Cas knew well by now that conversation came as easy as breathing when he was with Dean, and they immediately started up talking as the music bloomed through the room.

           

_In the timbers of fennario, the wolves are running round,_

_The winter was so hard and cold, froze ten feet ‘neath the ground._

_Don’t murder me, I beg of you, don’t murder me._

_Please, don’t murder me._

“…And I bet you sing yourself to sleep to him, don’t you? You’re such a loser, Cas. I can just see you, all curled up with your pillow.” Dean did his best terrible imitation of Cas’s singing (even though he had only heard it for the first time that day), “Caaaaan you feeeeeeel the loooooove toniiiiiiiight!”

            Cas didn’t even think to be embarrassed by Dean’s teasing, and came right back with a rebuttal. “Listen, you can laugh about my love for Elton John all you want, but at least I don’t listen to Bon Jovi. Besides, you like Elton. I know you do, you just don’t want to admit it.”

            “What’s wrong with Bon Jovi!?”

            “What _isn’t_ wrong with Bon Jovi?”

            “The next time you’re in my car I’m making you listen to Bon Jovi the _entire_ way there.”

            He knew it had just been an offhand comment, a joke more than anything, but Cas was warmed by the possibility of driving places with Dean. It meant that there would be more of this. The weather was getting cold out now, but maybe when spring rolled around they could drive places together with the windows down, music blaring…

            The conversation moved from music, to family, to school to about a billion other things.

            Cas learned that Dean’s favorite movie was _Back to the Future._ He had a scar on the back of his hand from trying to climb a barbed wire fence as a child. He was allergic to cats. One of his favorite memories was shooting off fireworks one Fourth of July with Sam. He would do just about _anything_ for a slice of home-baked apple pie…

            Cas’s mind swirled with all this new information. He wanted to store it away somewhere safe and organized, so he could never forget a single fact about Dean. He wanted to be able to list off all of Dean’s favorite things. He wanted to know every story behind every blemish and scar on the boy’s skin. He wanted to have his own memories of shooting off fireworks under the stars with him.

            Cas had hardly known Dean for two weeks, and he already wanted to share so many things with him. He wanted campfires, and more jam sessions, and movie nights, and road trips, and everything that was ever cliché like school dances dressed up in suits with matching boutonnieres and movie dates and candle-lit dinners…

            “Are you going to Homecoming?” Cas asked suddenly. It was still several weeks away, but the school had already begun hanging fliers on the walls advertising the date and theme of the dance.

            Dean shrugged. “Dunno. Haven’t really thought about it. I might. How about you?”

            Cas frowned up at the ceiling. “Probably not. I’ve never actually gone to any school dances before. Bit more of a social thing than I’m used to.” He always thought there were a bit silly. And who went to those things alone, anyway?

            “Yeah, what’s with that? You’re always sitting alone at lunch and stuff. You’ve got to have more friends than just me.”

            Cas turned to look at Dean when he spoke. “Meg and I are friends. We don’t really get together outside of school, though. So just you, I suppose.”

            Dean flashed a crooked smile. “So does that make me your best friend?”

            “I suppose it does.”

            Dean was quiet for a moment, appearing to consider the idea before speaking again. “Don’t you get lonely?”

            “Not really.” People always thought that was weird of him, but Cas really _didn’t_ mind. It was never something that had really bothered him much. “I’m sort of a solitary person.”

            “I dunno…to each their own, I suppose. Seems kind of depressing to me.”

            “Not really I just…Hey, who are you to be lecturing me about this? You’re the one who said you’re _brother_ badgered you to go hang out with people more. What’s that all about, then?”

            “That’s…I don’t know, it’s not weird like you just…not liking to be around people. Can we not talk about it?”

            Cas stared at Dean. Something about the topic had clearly made Dean uncomfortable, and Cas had a vague idea of what it might be.

            It was faint, but there was barely a shadow of a bruise along the boy’s jawline. It had been darker a few days ago, but it was starting to fade now.

            It wasn’t the first time Cas had noticed marks like that on the other’s skin. He remembered Dean saying he had gotten in a fight at one point, but Cas knew even then he had been lying due to the evasive way he had answered the question.

            Pair that up with the way Dean always avoided talk of his family, plus the well known reputation his father had as being a raging alcoholic, and Cas had a pretty clear answer as to where the bruises were coming from.

            And given Dean’s personality, Cas wouldn’t put it past him to segregate himself from his friends in an attempt to avoid anyone catching on.

            “What? Why do you always stare like that?”

            “Because I’m thinking.”

            “About what?”

            “You have another bruise. It’s almost gone now, but I saw it before, too, when it was darker.”

            “So?” Cas saw the way Dean’s eyes flickered away from Cas’s in an almost anxious fashion.

            “You have them a lot. And I know why.”

            “What are you talking about? I don’t have bruises from anything…it’s just, you know, little bumps and things, I don’t know why you’re making a big deal…”

            “I’m not making a big deal. Do you want me to?”

            “No.”

            “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I know why you have them. I think it’s horrible. I wish I could help, but I don’t think I can, really.”    

            Dean was silent for what felt like an agonizingly long time and Cas was worried that he had gone to far. Sometimes he had problems with knowing what was and wasn’t an acceptable thing to say to someone.

            “Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” Dean finally spoke, his voice quiet.  

            “Why didn’t _you_ ever say anything?”

            “Because I didn’t want to talk about it.”

            “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you wanted to talk about it.”

            “So why are we talking about it?”

            “Because I wanted you to know that you can.”

            Silence.

 

_You who chose to lead must follow,_

_But if you fall you fall alone,_

_If you should fall then who’s to guide you?_

_If I knew the way I would take you home…_

            The ending lyrics of the final track on the record died out into the air, leaving silence save for the crackling white noise made by the record player.

            Cas let it run for a few moments before he got up, carefully plucking the disk from the platform and slipping it back into the sleeve.

            He was just looking for a new album to play when Dean spoke again.

            “Cas?”

            Cas bristled at the way Dean’s voice cracked over Cas’s name.

            “Yes?”

            “Thank you.”

 

 

 

           

            Cas found it a weirdly dizzying how quickly the weeks seemed to be flying by. He felt like it was still the start of September, but the date on the calendar and the sharp chill starting to cut through the air assured him that the year was creeping into mid-October.

            This, of course, only meant one thing to most high-schoolers: Homecoming was only a week and a half away.

            Girls tittered about what kind of dress they were going to get, and boy’s shoved at each other in the hallways, teasing their friends about who they planned on asking.

            The general atmosphere of the school was one of budding excitement.

            Cas didn’t know if most schools made such a big deal about such a silly little dance, but perhaps it was because they came from such a small town. It wasn’t like there was a whole lot to do, after all.

            Unless you enjoyed dedicating your free time to guitar sessions and movie nights, of course. Cas didn’t really like going out much anyway, and felt completely indifferent to the excited buzz surrounding the coming dance.

            “…I just didn’t get it, okay? It was weird.”  

            “What didn’t you get? How did you not get it? I thought you were smart!”

            “It was really violent!”

            “You didn’t get that from the title?”

            “Okay, but it was just…I don’t know, it was weird. I don’t understand what happened at the end. Why did he _shoot_ himself?”

            “Dude, how many times are we going to go over this? Because it was the only way to kill his crazy Brad Pitt split personality!”

            “I still didn’t like it.”

            “Your taste in movies _sucks_.”

            “It does _not_! Just because I don’t like weird violent psycho movies like you do!”

            “Seriously? Is the _only_ movie you ever watch the Wizard of Oz?”

            “Okay, first of all, that is a classic and a great movie and don’t you _dare_ speak badly about it because it’s my favorite. Second of all, I have _seen_ other movies, okay? I’m just not a big movie watcher. I’d rather read a book.”

            “Yeah, because you’re _weird_. You’re killing me here, Cas. Quit being such a nerd.”

            Cas rolled his eyes. “Just don’t pick something so violent next time.”

            Dean snorted. “What, you want to have date night? We can rent a bunch of mushy romcoms and you can cry onto my shoulder all night.”

            Cas scowled but it was mostly to hide the fact that the phrase ‘date night’ had gotten him a bit flushed. “You’re just upset because I don’t like the same movies you like.”

            “Stop trying to act all cool like you wouldn’t _love_ romcoms. I bet you do. Bet you watch the Notebook and Love Actually back to back with a big ass bowl of ice cream.”

            “Dean, I don’t even know what those movies _are_.”

            “Good, because I’d probably gag if you ever brought a movie like that into my house. No chick flicks, alright?”

            “I never said anything about watching chick flicks! You’re the one who keeps—“

            “Dean!”

            The two boys halted their progress through the slowly thinning hallways to look for the source of the voice.

            Lisa was a few paces behind them, waving at Dean and walking quickly to catch up.

            Her eyes slipped from Dean to Cas, an unpleasant twitch tugging at her lips as Cas stared right back.

            Cas and Lisa had never gotten along well. She did student work in the tutoring lab in order to gain some extra credits that allowed her to be taking a few courses at the local college, even though she was still a senior in high-school.

            Cas regarded her as being a bit stuck up, and he knew she thought he was just weird.

            “What are you guys up to?” Lisa asked Dean, though her eyes were still locked on Cas.

            “Me and Cas are heading over to his place so he can help me with my homework. We sort of stopped doing the tutoring at school. It’s just easier to do it at his place.”

            Lisa kept staring at Cas in a way that made him a bit uncomfortable.

            “Dean, can I talk to you for a moment?”

            “We’re talking now. What’s up?”

            “I need to talk to you alone.”

            “Uh…” Dean glanced at Cas with a shrug. “Sure. Be right back, Cas.”

            Cas nodded and hung back by the lockers, watching as Lisa tugged Dean out of earshot.

            He knew it was a bit petty, but Lisa’s vaguely stuck-up attitude wasn’t the only thing that irritated him about her.

            It wasn’t exactly a secret that she and Dean had been dating on and off since about Sophomore year. Cas didn’t _think_ they were currently dating (Dean was a bit unclear about what exactly their relationship was), but he was going to be taking her to Homecoming that year.

            It was stupid. Stupid, stupid, because while the hope that he and Dean would _ever_ be anything more than good friends was desperately out of his reach, he still felt a sharp pang of jealousy.

            He had to keep reminding himself that Dean was straight.

            Whatever they were talking about over there, it seemed to be a bit of an argument, and Cas felt a sickening twist of unease in his gut when Dean spared a glance over his shoulder at Cas.

            Where they talking about him?

            Cas shuffled his feet, staring down at the ground.

            What could Lisa possibly have to say to Dean about Cas?

            Maybe he was just paranoid. Maybe because he was jealous and sort of wished that _he_ was taking Dean to Homecoming, he was just projecting his bitterness onto Lisa. It was probably something like that.

            But after a few minutes had passed, and the argument or whatever it was seemed to end, Dean wandered over to Cas, giving the boy an odd look.

            “Is everything all right between you two?” Cas asked, pushing off of the locker he had been leaning against to continue on their path towards the parking lot.

            “Yeah, no, it’s fine…”

            “Are you two still going to Homecoming?”

            “Yeah…”

            “…Are you alright? You look…distracted, I suppose.”

            “No, everything’s fine, Cas. Let’s get going. I remembered to bring some records this time that we can listen to, and then I brought Back to the Future, too. It’s Friday, so Michael shouldn’t give you too much of a hard time for staying up late, right?”

            Cas shook his head.

            “Great. C’mon, then.” Dean picked up his walking pace, though Cas lagged a bit behind, trying to push down the growing sense of unease that was building up in his chest.

            Dean’s odd attitude definitely implied that the conversation _had_ been about Cas. But what, though?

            Cas didn’t like the thought of Lisa secretly telling Dean things about him, whether they were true or not.

            Well, whatever it was, Dean obviously wasn’t going to talk about it. There was no sense ruining his weekend over something like that, so he swallowed down the slinking feeling of foreboding that had gripped ahold of him, and quickened his pace to catch up to Dean.


	4. You Shook Me All Night Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally Homecoming night, and things get a little off track from what Dean had expected.

**You Shook Me All Night Long**

_Taking more than his share, had me fighting for air. He told me to come but I was already there_

 

             It was a relief, to say the very least, when Dean finally found himself behind the wheel of his car, the spots from the camera’s flash still swimming in his field of vision. Cas had been right about Michael liking to take pictures.

            He supposed the older Novak brother was just happy to see Cas getting out and being a little more social (Cas had mentioned, after all, that this would be his first school dance), but still…The half an hour the four of them had spent posing with fake smiles in front of the fire place while Michael obsessed over getting the correct lighting did seem a bit excessive.

            But after several attempts to escape that lead to Cas finally snapping at his brother, they were able to make it out the door.

            So the four of them piled into the Impala: Dean, Lisa, Cas, and Meg.

            Dean had been a bit surprised when Cas, after much badgering from both Dean and Meg, agreed to go. And with Meg as a date, no less, whom he was always insisting was ‘just a friend’.

            Though, as Dean glanced into the rear view mirror at the two of them chatting, he considered that they probably _were_ only going as friends. He had never seen anything between the two of them that was even vaguely inclined towards romantic attraction, and he doubted that going as Homecoming dates was really going to change that.

            The thing was, Dean had really been hoping that Cas and Meg might hit it off at the dance.

            He hadn’t voiced his hope to anyone, though he had certainly been trying to hint to Cas the past few weeks that maybe there could be some sort of chemistry, other than the literal kind that he tutored, between them. This had gone thoroughly unnoticed by Cas.

            He knew it was dumb, and he felt pretty guilty about _why_ he wanted them to get together, but he just couldn’t shake what Lisa had told him a few weeks back.

            About the rumors that went around about Cas.

            The rumors that Dean had known nothing about because Dean, of course, never really paid much attention to high school gossip, nor had he ever paid any attention to Cas until very recently.

            But now that the thoughts were in his head, it made him uneasy. It made him uneasy when he stared too long in the rear view mirror and Cas glanced up, catching his eye and smiling.

            Dean didn’t return the smile and focused once more on the road, hating himself a little bit for feeling weary around Cas.

            He half wished he had never had that conversation with Lisa. Now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time Cas looked at him the right way, or the wrong way, or _whatever_ , he just felt uncomfortable. When they sat on Cas’s bed listening to records, and Cas’s knee would just barely brush against Dean’s, and Dean felt wrong for even _noticing_ those little things, and then he would wonder if Cas was noticing too, and…

            Dean shuddered and Lisa gave him an odd look. He flashed her a smile in return, which seemed to appease her, but it slid off of his face as soon as she turned back to staring out the window.

            Dean was glad when they arrived at the crowded, noisy restraint, allowing him to drop the troubling thoughts in favor of some dinner. Besides, he was supposed to be having fun, even if he was at that point where all of those dances just seemed lame. He was surprised he was even going to this one, but he knew that Sammy wanted him to. It was difficult to say no to Sammy.

            They found a booth, and Dean was happy to see that while the place was pretty full (it was a Saturday night, after all), there didn’t appear to be any other Homecoming kids inside. Dean already wasn’t looking foreword to spending the night with his peers at the dance, so he sure as hell didn’t want to be around any of them while they ate, either.

            The server came and went, taking their drink and food orders before whisking off to take care of other tables, and the four of them shared light conversation.

            Well, Meg and Lisa, mostly. They were talking about the dance, what songs they hoped to hear, Lisa babbling on and on about who had asked who to go with them. Meg seemed a bit bored by that.

            Dean was still caught up in his troubled thoughts about Cas, and Cas’s thoughts were a bit of an enigma as usual, though he was always a bit quiet when they were in a group larger than three. Dean also new that Lisa and Cas weren’t overly fond of each other, so that might have been attributing to Cas’s silence.

            “So, Meg, Cas…” Lisa said, a wry smile playing at her lips. Dean already disliked her tone. “Who’s house are you heading back to after the dance, hm? No doubt Meg’s, right? Cas, I hear your family is a bit…strict. I doubt you bringing your date home would go over too good.”

            Lisa’s innuendo clearly flew well over Cas’s head. He was staring at her with a perplexed expression, and if Dean wasn’t suspicious at Lisa’s intentions, he would have probably laughed. Cas was so naïve and Dean couldn’t tell sometimes whether it was endearing or just funny.

            Meg answered before Cas could voice any confusion. “Me and Clarence?” She spoke with a breath of humor on her words. “You know, I’ve been chasing after him for a year now, but the little heartbreaker just won’t go for it. Saving himself for marriage, you know.” Meg fluttered her eyelashes at Cas.

            Cas blinked at Lisa, the meaning of her question now dawning on him. “Pardon? You think that Meg and I are going to have sex tonight?”

            “Well,” Lisa said, a bit disbelieving of Cas’s ignorance. “That’s the general idea. Don’t be surprised if Dean and I want to take off early.”

            Dean pointedly looked away. He was never one to turn down that kind of offer, but he wasn’t really feeling it at the moment, and Lisa was irritating him. He didn’t like her saying things like that around everyone, either. It was like she was showing off.

            Cas glanced at Dean, and it just made him feel worse for some reason. He didn’t know why, because Cas knew damn well at this point what kind of recreation Dean got up to in his spare time. Cas had never said anything that implied that he might pass judgment on Dean for that, either, but Dean would still rather Cas not know all of those details.

            “No, Meg was correct. We’re certainly not going to be doing anything like that together. I keep faith, so not until I’m married.”

            “Oh?” Lisa continued, and Dean didn’t like the intrigue in her voice. She always seemed to have a habit of knowing things that she shouldn’t. “You know, that’s interesting, because Anna tells me different.”

            Cas was halfway through a long drink of his soda when Lisa spoke, and the moment the name ‘Anna’ was out in the open he nearly spat the beverage everywhere, startling everyone at the table.

            “A-Anna?” He stammered, quickly trying to mop up the front of his shirt with a napkin and doing what seemed to be a horrible attempt at sounding nonchalant.

            Dean had been about a few seconds away from telling Lisa off for picking on Cas until Anna had been brought up. He knew she was trying to get under his skin (Lisa made it pretty clear that she wasn’t fond of Cas), but…Anna? What was she referring to?

            Anna Milton was a pretty and generally well-liked girl who shared a grade with the four of them. Dean knew her well enough, but didn’t think he had ever seen she and Cas exchange so much as a glance in the hallway.

            Dean’s knew better than to let Lisa go on, but his curiosity got the best of him.

            “Oh, yeah. Anna told me about last summer. Didn’t you guys go on a date one night?”

            “Well—well, yes, Anna and I did go on a date once last summer, but—“ Cas was clearly uncomfortable, and Dean felt his curiosity waver with the need to jump in.

            “Lisa, lay off. I don’t think Cas wants to talk about—“

            “Well, I don’t blame him, really, after what Anna told me. Said it was the worst lay she ever had. Didn’t even know where to put _what_.”

            “L-Listen, I don’t know why Anna would—I’ve never—We’ve never—just went on a date together—“

            “You _know_ , Cas…I mean, it certainly sounds like an embarrassing memory, and it’s not like _Anna_ is hard to get a piece of—“

            “Hey!” Meg spoke up, clearly bristled by the drag on Anna.

            “But with the rumors that go around the school about you, I’m surprised that you don’t _brag_ about getting it on with a girl.”

            Everyone was silent for a moment, staring at Cas. Even Dean got lost for a moment, wondering if Lisa had really hit the nail on the head, if Cas really was—

            But he saw the expression Cas’s face and it snapped him to reality.

            “Lisa!” Dean growled. “Will you just lay the fuck off of Cas?”

            “What?” Lisa replied, holding her hands up as though she didn’t see a problem. “I wasn’t trying to make any accusations! It’s just an observation. And the way he follows you around like a sick little puppy dog makes it seem like—“

            “I have to use the bathroom.” Cas said quickly, his voice shaking and his face had paled as he stood up, nearly knocking over his soda and rushing away from the table.

            “Cas!” Meg said, following after him.

            Dean rounded on Lisa, furious at her for berating Cas enough to make him run off.

            “What the hell was that for?”

            “Dean, we _talked_ about this! I’m just worried that—“

            “Worried that _what_?

            Lisa gave Dean a hard look, her jaw set. “Because I think those rumors about him are true.”

            “So!? Let him be! Why does it matter?”

            “Because, Dean! Have you seen the way that little freak looks at you? He’s got the hots for you.”

            “Lisa, shut the fuck up.” Dean liked Lisa a lot. Even if he had been unsure since the start of high school about whether those feelings were romantic or not, he enjoyed her company. He was also pretty sure that he had never spoken to her like that before. He had never had reason to.

            But right now he was nearly shaking, he was so angry with her.

            Yes, the possibility that Cas might have some sort of weird gay crush on Dean made him pretty damn uncomfortable, and if he was completely honest with himself he would have felt better not knowing any of the rumors about Cas.

            But that didn’t mean that Cas deserved to be ridiculed for it. The kids at school always gave poor Cas such a terrible time, and nobody bothered to get to know him. This was the same damn thing, and Dean would be dammed if he went and turned his back on Cas after all of this.

            Lisa looked nothing short of livid at Dean’s words. “Is that what you want? People spreading rumors about _you_? About what kind of a relationship you and Cas _really_ have?”

            “What the hell is that supposed to mean? We’re friends.”

            “Yeah, but do you really think that you and him hanging around each other all the time isn’t going to start rumors going around about the two of you? Is that what you want?”

            “I couldn’t care less about what the people at school think.” This wasn’t entirely true, but Dean wasn’t about to let Lisa know that. Dean wouldn’t even think about sacrificing his friendship with Cas because of his reputation, but he didn’t particularly like the idea of rumors about his sexuality spreading around, either. Though he figured that if that was going to happen, it would have already started by that point. “Just lay the fuck off of him, alright? You say another damn word about it and I’m leaving.”

            Lisa looked as though she had plenty more to say, but Cas and Meg returned at that moment.

            Cas looked a bit puffy eyed, though he appeared to have calmed down, and Meg held a comforting hand on the teen’s shoulder as they both slid into the booth.

            Maybe there was something between Meg and Cas. Well, at least that would make this whole argument with Lisa irrelevant.

            They were silent for most of dinner, very little conversation being exchanged between the four of them. It wasn’t until they were finishing up and heading back out to the car that they all seemed to relax a bit more, and start joking around again.

            Dean still felt tense, however. He was furious at Lisa, and wasn’t particularly enthralled about being her date anymore. Something else was unsettling with him as well.

            Maybe it was her words about Cas. Or maybe it was the way Cas and Meg seemed so close, though he didn’t know why that would bother him. Whatever it was, Dean had spent most of dinner dwelling on Cas, and his bacon double hadn’t tasted nearly as good as it usually did.

            The school wasn’t far from the restaurant, and they pulled into the crowded parking lot soon after.

            They were about half an hour late, and they could tell even from outside that the dance was in full swing; the droning bass from the pop music playing in the gym boomed out into what would have been a quiet night. Nobody had really retreated back to their cars to make out yet (it was still early), but a few teenagers were walking lazily around the sidewalk that surrounded the school, clearly trying to cool off from the dancing, or find a bit of privacy.

            The four of them headed in, and handed their tickets to the people waiting at the entrance.

            The dance floor was packed with students, all excited and pumped full of energy at the start of the night. Strobe lights flashed around the gym walls, and a DJ table was set up in the far corner.

            Dean always thought these things were pretty lame, to be honest, and he already felt as though he wanted to go home. Or maybe just sit in his car and crack open a few beers. That’d be more entertaining than standing there, watching all the people he hated bounce around like idiots to bad music.

            But he couldn’t help but feel his mood lift a bit when he glanced over to spot Cas who was being pulled into some awkward dance moves by a laughing Meg. He looked so uncomfortable and completely at a loss for what to do. Dean sometimes forgot how anti-social Cas could be, and his tendency to be awkward was always good for a laugh.

            Dean loosened up a bit as the night drew on, eventually joining the others at their dancing, though he tried to avoid Lisa as much as he could. This proved difficult, however, as she was pretty content to keep close to him. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was trying to make a sort of barricade between he and Cas. Cas seemed completely oblivious to this.

            “What is this music?” Cas tried to yell over the noise surrounding them.

            “It’s One Direction!” Meg replied with a laugh. “You don’t know this?”

            “What direction?”

            “No, _One Direction!_ It’s some dumb boy band!”

            “A boy band?” The song finished just as Cas spoke, his words ringing loud between the short transition. A few people stared at him and Dean and Meg laughed at the look on his face.

            “Seriously, Clarence, it’s like you live under a _rock_ or something! What era are you from again?”

            “Just because I don’t listen to—“ But the next song started up as though the DJ were personally backing Cas up, and he didn’t finish his sentence.

 

_You broke my heart, because I couldn’t dance,_

_You didn’t even want me around._

_And now I’m back, to let you know,_

_That I can really shake ‘em down._

            As soon as the music started up, Dean and Cas exchanged delighted looks, ecstatic at the possibility that a song they both knew was actually playing.

            “Can I have this dance?” Dean shouted over the music with a laugh, holding his hand out teasingly to Cas.

            Cas, grinning like he did when it was just the two of them listening to music, took Dean’s hand as Dean pulled the boy into a spin.

           

_Do you love me? (I can really move)_

_Do you love me? (I’m in the groove)_

_Ah, do you love me?(Do you love me?)_

_Now that I can dance? (dance)_

            Cas could play guitar better than anybody Dean knew, and Dean wasn’t abashed to say that he had a decent singing voice, but it was clear that neither of them had any talent when it came to dance.

            Meg was nearly doubled over in laughter as she watched the two boys stumbling over each other’s feet, swinging around haphazardly so that some of the nearby students had actually decided to give them a wide berth.

           

_Watch me now, oh, (work, work)_

_Ah, work it all baby. (work, work)_

_Well, you’re drivin’ me crazy. (work, work)_

_With a little bit of soul, now (work)_

            Dean was even a bit surprised at the way Cas, who was normally shy, quiet, and pretty secluded when they were anywhere with other people was gladly letting Dean string him along, laughing about as hard as Meg as he tried to sing along with the lyrics.

 

_I can mash-potato (I can mash-potato)_   
_And I can do the twist (I can do the twist)_   
_Now tell me baby (tell me baby)_   
_Mmm, do you like it like this (do you like it like this)_   
_Tell me (tell me)_   
_Tell me_

           

            It had been so easy to forget about all of the earlier conversations, about his guilty suspicions about Cas, about the cruel way that Lisa had acted, and about his desperate denial that Cas felt anything more than a strong friendship towards Dean.

            They were dancing, and laughing, and it was _fun_ , definitely more fun that Dean had ever had at one of those stupid dances, even if he and Cas had probably stepped on each other’s feet at least five times already.

            Dean pulled the brunette into a clumsy dip, his eyes locked onto Cas’s, bright blue and crinkled at the corners from the smile that was so wide it must have hurt.

            Dean was grinning too, and he didn’t notice how close their faces actually were just then, because he was too focused on letting his eyes draw in every bit of Cas’s face at that moment, resting on his lips as they formed around the words,

“ _Mmm, do you like it like this? Tell me, tell me_.”

He couldn’t hear Cas singing, the music was too loud, but he could imagine what he probably sounded like: out of tune as usual, probably worse because of the peals of laughter still escaping his throat.

“Dean!” Lisa’s voice was loud enough to cut through the music. It cut through the music, and through Dean’s thoughts, and ripped him so violently back to reality that he actually jumped, letting go of Cas who fell hard onto the gym floor.

            “Shit, Cas—sorry—“

            “Dean, what are you _doing?_ ” Lisa hissed, approaching Dean, red in the face and looking furious. She grabbed his shirtsleeve, clearly intending to drag Dean away from the dance floor with her, but Dean pulled away and darted through the crowd before anyone could say another word to him.

            He was in the bathroom before he knew it, leaning against the wall and holding his head in his hands. He could still hear the muffled sounds of The Contours chanting

 _Do you love me?_ in a way that was now giving Dean a sickening headache.

            What the hell was _that_?

            Was he some sort of an idiot? After everything Lisa had said, and all the times he had started to worry about how significant those looks that Cas gave him were, he went and did something like that?

            But he was conflicted and the moment those thoughts worked their way up he felt guilty. Cas was his _friend_ and he was wrong to think that way about him, to accuse him of things that had absolutely no base.

            And on top of everything he had dropped Cas, and left him on the floor out there. The poor kid was probably confused and at least a little bit humiliated and—

            “Dean?”

            Dean opened his eyes and jumped, startled to see Cas standing there, staring at him with his head tilted, his brow furrowed in concern. Dean hadn’t even noticed him walk in.

            “Dean, what happened back there? Is everything—“

            Dean didn’t know what came over him, because he had certainly never showed any sort of violence towards Cas at all, but he found himself grabbing the smaller boy by the front of his shirt, and pushing him back against the wall. He didn’t even remember getting angry.

            Cas looked terrified.

            “Is it true?” Dean snapped, hating the sound of anger in his voice and the look of fear in Cas’s eyes.

            “I-Is what true? Dean, what are you—“

            “Shut up and just answer my damn question, Cas! Is it true?”

            “I don’t know what you’re asking me, Dean! About Anna?”

            “Dude, I don’t give a _shit_ about what you did with Anna! I’m fuckin’ happy for you that you actually got some. I’m asking about the damn rumors!”

            “Dean, I—“

            “Stop acting like you don’t know, Jesus Christ, Cas, everybody fuckin’ knows what they say about you. I’m asking you if it’s _true_.”

            The look on Cas’s face, stuck somewhere between hurt and fear, is what made Dean finally let go of his shirt and step back. What was he doing, yelling at poor Cas like that? Cas hadn’t done _anything_ wrong. They were supposed to be _friends_.

            He stared at Dean for a moment after his feet were finally flat on the ground again. “No…no they aren’t true.” He said finally, his voice wavering in a frightened way that made Dean feel sick.

            Dean didn’t have anything to say. He felt terrible, like the worst friend in the world. He gave Cas a quick nod, hovering for a moment longer in the bathroom before he left, moving quickly past Cas, past the students mingling in the cafeteria, past the ticket counters, and out into the parking lot.

            The air was cool and it helped to calm him down a bit, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

            Dean would have liked to just go home and leave the dance all together, but he had driven the other’s there in his car, and while he had no idea how he was going to go back in there and talk to them after all of that, he couldn’t leave them behind.

            He located his car quickly, muttering a quiet ‘Hey, baby.’ as he patted her hood and slid into the driver’s side.

            For once he didn’t even pay any attention to the music that was playing on the radio; he just wanted the noise to drown out the sounds from the dance inside.

            Dean reached under the passenger’s side seat, tugging out a case of beer he had snatched from his dad’s store (he’d be too drunk to notice it missing, anyway), and cracking open one of the lukewarm cans.

            It tasted bitter and familiar, though it had been a surprisingly long time since he had had anything to drink.

            So much of his free time lately had been spent around Cas, who was about as well behaved and straight laced as you would expect, and certainly didn’t drink. Dean would have laughed at the image of a drunken Cas if he hadn’t been so upset at the moment.

            What was wrong with him? Why had he gone and yelled at Cas that way? He hadn’t done anything wrong, and had even gone after Dean to make sure he was okay.

            And Dean had yelled at him, pointed fingers, and accused him of some stupid rumors which—

            The passenger’s side of the car opened, and Dean stared over, finding himself once again staring into Cas’s worried eyes.

            “Cas, shit—“

            “It’s alright.” Cas said before Dean could even choke out any sort of apology. Cas slid into the passenger seat, closing the door, and turning to stare. “I’m not upset with you. And…I am sorry if I ever gave you some sort of impression that I—“

            “No, no—shit—Cas—you don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that and—“

            “Yes, but if you were worried tha—“

            “Let’s just save it, alright? We don’t have to talk about it. I don’t really want to. We’re both sorry, and that’s cool, right?”

            Cas held Dean’s gaze for a moment before nodding, and finally breaking the eye contact (which relieved Dean), to stare out the windshield.

            “Want a beer?”

            Cas glanced over to eye the can in Dean’s hand. Dean could almost feel the aura of disapproval that he was giving off.

            “I don’t drink. We’re underage.”

            “Yeah, well…thought I’d offer. Didn’t want to be rude. So, what did you think of your first homecoming?”

            “…The music was awful. Why do people go to these things?”

            Dean laughed which just seemed to confuse Cas. “I don’t know, Cas. They do listen to pretty terrible music, don’t they? Should have let us pick out the playlist. Hey, what if I DJ’d?”

            Cas cracked a small smile and it warmed Dean. “You’d be better than the man who was doing it in there, but I’m afraid I’d have to start passing judgment when you played Bon Jovi.”

            “You still harping on me for Bon Jovi? Let it go, dude.”

            Dean didn’t know why it was so easy to transition like that. One moment he had been yelling at Cas, hating himself for the way he had acted, feeling anxious about the implications of their relationship…and now they were talking and joking like they always did. So easy.

            So they sat in the car and talked, laughing about the poor music choice, and discussing what they would have played instead if they were in charge.

            Dean was surprised to say the least when Cas reached for one of the beers, staring tentatively at the drink before he took a careful sip.

            Everything that made Dean who he was was screaming at him to poke fun at Cas for his decision to drink, but he knew better. If he said a word about it Cas wouldn’t do it. He’d get embarrassed, and then probably think better of it.

            Dean would have killed to know what was going on in Cas’s head at the moment. They were as close as ever in the weeks that their friendship had quickly grown in connection, but Cas was still damn near impossible to read.

            “I don’t understand that. Why does she spell her name with a dollar sign?” Cas questioned as their conversation moved to current popular artists. He stared at his beer after every sip he took as though he didn’t even know what it was.

            “Dude, I don’t fucking know. I only know who she is because some of my other friends listen to all of that top forty shit. Hey, you should start sitting with us at lunch.”

            “Pardon?”

            “You always sit alone. I mean, it’s not like we aren’t friends, Cas. And we have the same lunch period. I bet Charlie and Garth would like you.”

            “Maybe…”

            “No, they’d love you, I know they would. Charlie’s always asking me to bring you along when we all hang out, but you always say no.”

            “I don’t like to be around a lot of people.” Dean was surprised to see that Cas had already emptied his first beer, and was reaching for a second. “I’m surprised I even came out to this.”

            “Charlie and Garth aren’t a lot of people. And they’re nerds anyway, so I think they only count as like one whole person together. Dude, you would get along with them. Trust me. Garth has got good taste in music!”

            “Maybe I’ll come with next time.”

            “Yeah, you should.”

            Dean still wasn’t sure what had made Cas decide to drink, but after he made it about halfway through his second one, he began putting away beers at a pace pretty close to Dean’s, and they had nearly finished off the case before the hour was out. Their laughter growing steadily more uproarious and the conversation getting loose.

            Dean had turned the radio up a bit, because they always enjoyed listening to music together, but it wasn’t so loud that they couldn’t hear each other.

            _Blue Oyster Cult_ was playing—a band Dean enjoyed immensely—and he hummed happily along with the music between speech.

 

_Home in the valley,_

_Home in the city._

_Home isn't pretty,_

_Ain't no home for me._

            The subject from earlier surfaced up again and Dean wasn’t sure how they had gotten there. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it at all before, but now he was just drunk enough not to mind.

            “You _scared_ me!” Cas slurred, drunkenly, holding his hands out. “I thought you were going to—to—to beat me up or something!”

            “Cas, I wouldn’t beat you up! I’m sorry I yelled, dude, I was just, like havin’ a bad night ‘cause of Lisa n’ stuff.”

            “You know what I thought, actually? I mean, at first I kind of thought you were going to beat me up, but you were pushing me against the wall and—and asking me if I was gay and I thought you were going to _kiss_ me for a minute.”

            Dean laughed and made Cas laugh, who spilled some of his beer down the front of his shirt. He didn’t seem to notice or care.

            “You thought I was going to kiss you? Oh my God, that’s hilarious.”

            “Yeah! But we were dancing right before that and you got really close to me, so then I thought that maybe you wanted to kiss me when we were in the bathroom.”

            “Did you want me to kiss you in the bathroom?”

            “I don’t know.” Cas paused and turned to stare with his eyes wide. Dean could tell just by looking at him how drunk he was, though Dean wasn’t really much better off. He just had more experience, so he dealt with it better. “Did you want to kiss me?”

            “Dude, I wasn’t thinking about kissing you back there. Why do you want to know if I wanted to kiss you? Do you want me to kiss you now?” He didn’t know what he was saying. The words just spilled from his lips, his inhibitions completely lost in the slew of alcohol.

            “Yes.”

 

_Home in the darkness,_

_Home on the highway._

_Home isn't my way,_

_Home I'll never be._

 

            If Dean had had any bit of sobriety in him he wouldn’t have done it. Well, that was what he told himself, at least.

            The problem was that he _was_ drunk, but not _that_ drunk. Not so drunk that he wasn’t aware of what he was doing. Not so drunk that he would be forgetting this moment the following morning, though he didn’t know if Cas would.

            Cas’s lips were chapped and he was drunk and sloppy and inexperienced and it was the best kiss that Dean had ever tasted (even he did taste a bit like cheap beer).

Dean fought with himself over it even with his mind swimming in alcohol, telling himself that he shouldn’t, that he wasn’t gay, that he hadn’t watched Cas’s lips every time they sang together and wondered what they felt like against his own. That was definitely not a thought he had ever had.

            And if he broke the kiss, wouldn’t he have to acknowledge that it had happened? Would they have to say something? To talk about it? It’d be so awkward. Besides, Cas was already leaning over the seat, pushing against Dean’s lips with an eagerness that Dean didn’t know he had in him. How could Dean turn that down?

_Burn out the day,_

_Burn out the night._

_I can't see no reason,_

_To put up a fight._

 

            So he didn’t. He didn’t break the kiss even though he knew it was Cas, and that Cas was a boy and they were both definitely _not_ gay (not Dean, at least), and anybody could just peek into the windows and see them.

            But Dean didn’t want to care about that, he just wanted to tug Cas into his lap, crammed together in driver’s side seat, and touch every inch of the boy’s body that he was suddenly so desperately curious about.

            He let his fingers run through Cas’s already messy hair, and felt chills as Cas’s hands found his waist, fingers curling into the fabric of Dean’s button up.

 

_I'm living for givin' the Devil his due,_

_And I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you._

_I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you._

 

            Dean turned so his back pressed against the window, and Cas took the invitation gladly to try to climb across the seat as best as he could.

            Dean ran his tongue over Cas’s bottom lip, and he loved the way he felt a shudder run through Cas’s body.

            Fuck, they were both so drunk and this should have been so awkward because of what their relationship actually was (though Dean was starting to wonder if he was even sure about that), and Cas clearly had no idea what he was doing, but Dean was loving every moment of it.

            He loved the way Cas’s glasses had been knocked askew, he loved the way the other didn’t seem to know where to put his hands, or his lips, or how surprised the sound he made was when Dean’s kisses found their way down his neck.

 

_Time is the essence,_

_Time is the season._

_Time ain't no reason,_

_Got no time to slow_

 

            But he didn’t stay there long; Dean was too desperate to continue feeling Cas’s lips because he didn’t know when or if that would even happen again. He didn’t know if he _wanted_ it to happen again, but at this moment he couldn’t ask for more.

            “Dean,” Cas said in a shaky voice, pulling his lips back just enough to speak.

            “Shit, Cas, don’t.” Dean said, almost panicked that Cas was going to try to talk about this, that he was going to put it in the open, that they would have to acknowledge this actually happening. He tried to cut Cas’s unspoken words off with a new kiss, but Cas seemed suddenly uncomfortable, and pulled away faster than it had even started.

            It was lucky though, because he was just in time.

            Dean knew well that Cas had certainly never had anything to drink before, and his alcohol tolerance was pretty low (he was nothing short of plastered at the moment).

            It became quickly obvious that his stomach had about as much trouble handling the beer as his mind.

            Cas doubled over, still sitting half on his side of the seat and half on Dean’s, and retched up what looked like his entire dinner, milkshake and all, from the restaurant, all over Dean’s lap.


	5. People Are Strange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas deals with his worries about Dean's reaction to Homecoming night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for violence and homophobia!

**People Are Strange**

_People are strange, when you’re a stranger. Faces look ugly, when you’re alone._

 

            “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Cas nearly chanted the slurred words, ‘sorry’ spilling from his mouth faster than he could count.

            They stood in the parking lot, Dean trying to wipe the vomit from his front with a towel he had had in the trunk of his car. He looked angry and disgusted, and Cas couldn’t blame him one bit.

            The sour smell of vomit hung over both of them.

            But it was hard to think, to form any sort of coherent apology with the way his head was spinning. He couldn’t even see straight and had to check that his glasses were still on. The asphalt under his feet kept tilting, threatening to pitch Cas sideways.

            It had happened so fast, too. At first he was just pleasantly loopy, his mind dragging sluggish but cheerful, his lips meeting Dean’s before he even knew what he had been asking.

            The kiss was dizzying and breathtaking, and everything that Cas had hoped it would be, but before he knew it his head had started spinning too much, his vision unable to focus, and his stomach had given a violent churn.

            He was just glad that he hadn’t thrown up while they were still kissing. That was about the _only_ thing that could have made this worse.

            “I’m really sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to—“

            Dean held up a hand to cut him off. He looked furious and Cas shrunk back a little bit.

            If Cas hadn’t still been feeling extremely sick and if his mind had been a bit more focused he probably would have been crushed by the expression on Dean’s face.

            But currently he was far too concerned with keeping himself on his feet.

            He steadied himself against the car, squinting at the ground under his feet in hopes that it would keep still for a few moments.

            He felt like his mind was skipping around. He didn’t actually remember getting out of the car after throwing up, and he was surprised to see that Meg and Lisa were now standing there talking to Dean. When had they showed up?

            How long had he been leaning against the car like that?

            “Cas?”

            Meg was standing in front of him, staring at Cas with concern.

            “Huh?”

            “Jesus, Cas, you look like you’re going to be sick. Again.”

            “’S not funny…” Cas mumbled, his eyes narrowing at the hint of laughter in his friend’s tone 

            “It’s a little bit funny. Never thought I’d live to see the day that Castiel Novak got hammered...”

            “I want to go home.”

            Meg nodded. “We’re going to head out as soon as the lovebirds over there are done with their little spat. Lisa’s not happy that Dean ditched out on her. Specially because he left to hang out with you.” 

            “Meg…Meg, oh my gosh…I haffta…I haffta tell you what happened.”

            Meg just laughed and put a finger to his lips. “How about you wait till tomorrow when you’re a little bit less drunk, alright?

            Cas was a bit afraid that he might throw up again if he opened his mouth so he just nodded.

            He didn’t remember getting back into the car, but he remembered part of the ride home, and he remembered Meg helping him to the door.

            “You gonna be alright there, Clarence?” She asked as Cas struggled to get his house key into the lock. It took a few tries before he managed to get it.

            “Yeah I’m…I’m fine. I feel sort of really sick still, but…I’m just gonna…go to bed, I think. Thanks for bein’ my date, Meg, you’re a really great person, okay?”

            “Oh my God, Cas, go to bed.” Meg laughed, shoving Cas gently inside. “Just call me tomorrow, alright?”

            “Okay.” Cas said, waving at her friend before stepping inside.

            Time had moved very quickly from the time he had been kissing Dean to now. He felt a little bit lost.

            Cas wasn’t exactly sure what he had been thinking after the door was shut behind him, but he found himself somewhere between trying to take off his shoes and tie at the same time, and ended up stumbling in the entranceway, one shoe off as he tried in vain to pull his still knotted tie over his head.

            He fell over with a loud crash and a groan that dissolved into short peals of laughter. He felt sick and it had hurt when he fell, but it was also kind of funny. The laughter died quickly. 

            This was not turning out to be his night. Maybe he’d just fall asleep there. He was already lying down, anyway. It was cold, though. He wished he had his pajamas.

            “Castiel?” Michael’s sharp voice cut through the silence of the house as a light flickered on, and even in the haze of alcohol Cas felt his stomach dip in panic.

            Oh, no. He was _drunk_. He was very drunk and Michael wasn’t going to like that at all.

            “Castiel, what…Why are you on the floor?”

            Michael’s frowning face appeared above Cas.

            “Mikey?” Cas laughed through his panic. “Mikey, can you bring me my pajamas? I’m really tired and I want to go to sleep, but I don’t want to go all the way upstairs…” It was all he could think of to say.

            “What are you talking about, Castiel? And do _not_ call me Mikey. What is wrong with…” It took about another three seconds for everything to click. “Castiel, are you _drunk_? You—you smell like beer!”

            “No!” Cas snapped out of instinct before he even had a chance to think of his answer.

            Michael’s face was clear with disbelief.

            “…Yes.” Cas admitted, knowing that he couldn’t get out of this one. He was still dizzy and his stomach hadn’t yet settled. “A little.”

            A lot.

            Michael had a nasty habit of getting Cas into trouble for any number of things, but the teen couldn’t remember the last time his brother had looked so livid.

            “Castiel—do you have any idea—you are in so much trouble—I don’t even know where to _begin_ —“

            Well, tugging Cas suddenly to his feet without any warning was not the answer to that dilemma.

            “Mikey—don’t—“ Cas tried to protest as he stumbled to his feet, his stomach churning horribly as he tried to steady himself with a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

            He didn’t even have a chance to work out a proper protest before, for the second time that night, he found himself doubled over, heaving the last remains of his dinner and a generous amount of the beer he had ingested all over a horrified someone’s front. 

            If Cas had to choose any two people in the entire world that he would least want to throw up all over in a state of mind-numbing inebriation, they would be Dean Winchester and Michael. 

            The night probably couldn’t have gone any worse.

            Michael was at a complete loss for words, staring in horror down at his ruined pajamas.

            Cas would have apologized but he didn’t think that it was going to do very much good at that point.

            Michael took a few stunned moments to gather his bearings before he grabbed Cas by the wrist, tugging him forcefully to the staircase.

            “Michael, I—“

            “Castiel, it’s in your best interest that you _keep your mouth shut right now_.” Michael all but growled, and Cas didn’t need to be told twice.

            They made it (miraculously) up the stairs, and Cas was steered into his room.

            Michael leered from the doorway, looking as though there were about a hundred things he was trying not to say to Cas at the moment.

            “Just—go to bed. Now. I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

            As though that wasn’t an ominous threat to fall asleep to.

             Even after Cas made it gratefully to his mattress, the room still spun around him when he lied down. He closed his eyes and felt as though he was going to be tossed onto the floor.

            Before he finally managed to drift to sleep, Cas promised himself that he would never, _ever_ drink again.

 

 

 

            Sunday morning dawned bright and early.

            Too bright.

            Too early.

            Too… _loud_.

            The first thing Castiel noticed as his eyes reluctantly opened to a bleary view of his brightly lit room was the splitting headache he was sporting.

            It throbbed painfully with each disharmonic wail from Samandriel’s trumpet in the room next door.

            The digital clock read 9:48 am. He had slept through church.

            For a moment Cas was slightly surprised that he hadn’t been woken up by either a phone call from Balthazar, or Michael barging into his room. Surely after the previous night Michael would have wanted nothing more than to drag Cas out of bed as early as possible for mass.

            But a particularly loud note from Samandriel’s playing gave him better perspective. Michael was cleverer than that.

            Samandriel was well informed that Sunday, particularly in the morning, was specifically _quiet_ time, and he was never allowed to practice (if you could call it that) at this time.

            Michael, of course, would know that if anything would be a hindrance to someone with their first, and very terrible, hangover, it would be Samandriel’s trumpet playing.

            He was right.

            Cas reached for his glasses (at least he had remembered to take them off before bed), placing them over his eyes as his room came into focus, though it seemed to take longer than usual.

            The sunlight spilling through his curtains was too bright and he grouchily drew himself out of bed to shut them. It didn’t help much.

            In addition to his worsening headache, Cas’s mouth tasted awful, and he couldn’t remember ever feeling so thirsty. His mouth felt glued shut and it was difficult to swallow. There was still a bit of lingering nausea as well, though he didn’t think he would vomit again. He hoped not.

            Castiel had never woken up so miserable before. He was still wearing his dress clothes from the dance (with one shoe still on), and his boutonniere was crushed and littered all over his bed.

            _Why_ had he decided to drink? What possible thoughts could have been going through his head that night to make him think that that had been a good idea on any level?

            A pair of green eyes with long lashes and perfect lips curved into a perfect smile surfaced in Cas’s mind.

            Oh.

That was why.

            With a suddenness that nearly knocked Cas off of his feet his memories (however fuzzy) from the previous night seemed to catch up with his newly awakened state and his breath caught in his throat.

            He and Dean had _kissed_.

            Oh no, Cas was fairly certain that they had _made out_.

            He could almost feel the way Dean’s lips had felt on his own and he thanked the good Lord above for letting _those_ memories remain clear even if the rest of the night was a blur.

            Cas had to sit down.

            He had kissed Dean.

            Dean had kissed him.

            They had _kissed each other_.

            Weeks of wondering what Dean would taste like and Cas was only a little bit bitter that the flavor of beer had been more prominent at the time than anything else.

            He ran his fingers through tangled hair, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

 

            Dean had definitely been the one to make the first move, even if Cas was relatively sure that he had asked Dean if he had wanted to.

 

            But that would mean that Dean _did_ want to kiss him. Had he thought about it before that night? Or was he maybe just too drunk to care?

 

            Cas certainly hoped it wasn’t the latter. Perhaps he should call Dean. Would he want to talk about it? Cas wanted to talk about it. He wanted to do more than just talk—

 

            His heart stopped for the second time that morning as the rest of the night worked its way into his thoughts.

 

            Oh no.

 

            Cas clapped a hand over his mouth as his stomach gave an involuntary lurch at the memory.

 

            He had thrown up all over Dean’s lap. In the car. Right after they had been making out.

 

            It was hard to remember more than bits and pieces of the night after that, but he wouldn’t soon forget the look on Dean’s face afterwards.

 

            And Cas couldn’t really blame him.

 

            Oh _no_. This was horrible.

 

            And the worst part was that Cas was now feeling a bit unsure of what exactly Dean had been so mad about. Had he just been (understandably) angry and disgusted that Cas had thrown up all over him?

 

            Or had he only kissed Cas out of some drunken delusion, and regretted the decision immediately?

 

            Cas’s first instinct was to call Meg and, despite the sense of panic suddenly rising in him, he felt a small surge of warmth at the thought of his friend.

 

            Meg.

 

            Cas ad Meg had always gotten along well when they had shared classes together, but it wasn’t until that year when Meg had begun getting tutoring that they had really hit it off.

 

            Perhaps it was because the two of them both came off as more abrasive than either of them actually were that they got along.

 

            Whatever the reason, Cas couldn’t help but smile at the fact that for the first time in his life he considered himself to have two best friends.

 

            Heck, he had never even had one best friend before, not counting Balthazar, of course, and he was family. He was sort of obligated to be Cas’s best friend.

 

            But what really rung strong with Cas concerning Meg was thinking back to the restaurant before the dance.

 

            Lisa had more than upset Cas that night, and it was probably because her accusations weren’t exactly baseless.

 

            Breaching the subject of Anna (something Cas tried very hard to forget) had been bad enough (had Anna actually told people?), but as soon as Lisa had lied down even the slightest implications that Cas might harbor feelings towards his own gender…

 

            ‘Following Dean around like a sick puppy’, had been her words, Cas was pretty sure.

 

            He hadn’t stayed to hear the rest of the conversation from that point. He had felt sick and terrified.

 

            Cas knew that denying his feelings about Dean to himself was an almost laughable notion, but he had hoped that to everyone else, at least, he had been subtle…but if Lisa had begun to catch on…

 

            As soon as she had mentioned that Cas had left, not wanting to face Dean in any sort of conversation heading down that road. He wasn’t eager to lose one of the best friends he had ever had, not for some stupid crush…

 

            Meg had followed closely after to find Cas in a pretty rough state, sitting outside of the bathroom and trying his best to keep it together.

 

            What if Dean found out? What if Dean found out, and stopped being his friend? What if other people found out? There had always been rumors, but nothing concrete…what if Cas gave something away, and it reached back to his family?

 

            He had thought fleetingly of Lucifer at the time, terrified that his family would do the same thing to him; take all the pictures of him off of the wall, tell everyone that there were only three siblings in the family…

 

            But Meg had showed up, and Cas had tried to shoo her away. She was stubborn and told him to shut it.

 

            Words had spilled out, jumbled apologies about how he hoped she hadn’t been expecting anything more than a platonic date that night, and how he was sorry for leaving the table like that, but Lisa’s words were becoming too much, and he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say just then.

 

            She had smiled and hushed him, sitting down on the floor and wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders.

 

            She said he needed to shut up, that he was talking too much, and that she already knew, anyway. She said that she had figured it out a while ago, but assured him that nobody who didn’t listen to Cas talk about Dean (which was limited about to Meg and Balthazar, anyway) wouldn’t have a clue. She promised that she’d never judge Cas, and that she’d support him no matter what.

 

            It had meant a lot and despite his anxiety on the subject, it felt good to have someone other than Balthazar know what was going on.

 

            Meg had stayed with him until he was calm, and Cas really couldn’t have asked for more.

 

            Back in his bedroom Cas got to his feet, groaning at a particularly sharp throb that stabbed through his head, and considered taking a shower before calling Meg.

 

A plan had barely formed in his mind when the door to his room burst open to reveal Michael who looked nothing sort of terrifying, despite the obnoxiously pink apron that he was currently adorning, complete with a ruffled trim along the bottom hem.

 

            “I see you’ve _finally_ gotten out of bed.” He spoke, his tone dangerous.

 

            Cas was remembering the horrifying confrontation with Michael the previous night a little too late, and struggled to find something to say. There really wasn’t an excuse.

 

            “Why are you…why are you wearing that apron?” Cas said feebly, taking a step away from his brother. “There aren’t even any girls who live here…did you buy that?”

 

            Michael spared a short glance downward before holding his cold look on Cas. “It was mother’s.” He said, an air of defensiveness in his tone. “She always loved this apron.”

 

            “She’s not…dead. Why are you talking about her like that?” Cas spoke. It was too early and bright to try to make sense of Michael.

 

            “Do not try to derail me from the subject.” Michael continued, brandishing a wooden spoon that he had clearly been using to cook with at Cas. He must have rushed up the stairs the moment he heard movement. “You’re getting put to work today. Go shower, _quickly_ , and then you can come to me and I’ll give you your chore list.”

 

            “What?”

 

            “There’s three hampers full of laundry downstairs and don’t you _give me that look, Castiel_. It’s about time you learned how to do laundry. After that the bathrooms need to be cleaned, and then you’re going to go down to the church and help out with a donation drive they’re doing. I already signed you up to help.”

 

            “Michael!” Cas stuttered, scowling at the injustice in his brother’s demands. “I’ve got—I’ve got homework to do! And I don’t feel well—“

 

            “Well, whose fault is that?” Michael said with narrowed eyes, waving the spoon around irritably. “I have no sympathy for you. Now go get in the shower, and head downstairs. Not another _word_ on it, Castiel.” He finished on a warning note as Cas opened his mouth to retaliate.

 

            But Michael swept out of the room after that, leaving a very irritated and miserable Cas alone in his room.

 

            If Cas had a little more experience with drinking he might have known to consume a lot of water throughout the day, but that knowledge was beyond him, and never had a day dragged on so long before.

 

            His headache lasted until evening, and even then he still felt groggy and nothing short of terrible.

 

            Michael made a point of speaking well above his normal volume, and barked orders constantly while the sound of Samandriel’s abysmal trumpet playing rang throughout the house. Cas wondered how his brother had the lung capacity to keep playing for so long.

 

            It turned out to be a relief when he finally left to volunteer at church, though when he arrived he discovered with a disheartened groan that they were packing scores of donations into trucks to drop off at homeless shelters.

 

            It involved a lot of lifting and sweating (two things that Cas never particularly enjoyed), and by the time he got back home in the late evening his body ached all over.

 

            Michael was waiting for him the moment he stepped inside, and it was times like those that Cas wondered bitterly whether their parents had mixed up Michael and Lucifer when they had named them.

 

            He was handed another list of chores, protests falling on deaf ears and it was pushing ten o’ clock before Michael finally seemed satisfied that Cas had been punished enough.

 

            He whipped up a quick meal for Cas who refused to utter a word of thanks, and stalked off to his bedroom where he got some music playing before doing anything else. The sounds of Samandriel’s trumpet were still lingering in his ears, though he had stopped playing hours ago, and Cas had to get rid of it.

 

            He didn’t have the energy to go through and pick out an album, so he just defaulted to the Beatles as he normally did when he didn’t feel like thinking.

 

            The music relaxed him a bit, and Cas let the first song play through as he shoveled down his dinner before deciding to call Meg.

 

            His phone had been disturbingly silent all day (he had hoped to hear from Dean), but he pushed away his anxieties as he placed the phone to his ear and lied back on his bed.

 

 

 _Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name,_  
Nobody came.  
Father Mckenzie wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave,  
No one was saved.

 

 

            “Hey, Clarence.” Cas could hear the smile in Meg’s voice when she answered. “Been waiting all day for you to call. What took you so long?”

 

            “Michael had me working all day today, he wasn’t very happy when I got home last night…”

 

            “Yeah, speaking of last night, you gonna let me in on how you ended up piss drunk when we left the dance?”

 

            So Cas recounted the entire story for her from the moment he had left to look for Dean, to when he arrived home hours later and confronted Michael.

 

            He had never been an intricate storyteller, and it only took a few minutes.

 

            The Beatles continued singing into the next song as though nothing fazed them.

 

 

 

 _Everybody seems to think I'm lazy_  
I don't mind, I think they're crazy  
Running everywhere at such a speed  
Till they find there's no need (There's no need)

 

 

            They replaced Cas’s voice for a few moments once he finished the story, unsure, even after dwelling the entire day on the matter on how he felt about everything.

 

            Meg let out a low whistle. “Well, can’t exactly say I’m envious of you right now. Blowing chunks all over Dean…”      

 

            “Can we perhaps focus on a different part of the story?” Cas said wearily, running a hand through is already messy hair.

 

           

 

_Lying there and staring at the ceiling  
Waiting for a sleepy feeling..._

 

 

            “Don’t beat yourself up about it too much, angel.” Meg crooned. “He’s probably a little shaken up about getting puked all over, but I don’t think he could stay too mad at you.”

 

            “I haven’t heard from him all day…Do you think he’s mad about that or…or about the kissing?”

 

            “If he’s mad at you about your little make-out scene,” Meg said, her voice suddenly fierce. “Then he’s going to have me to deal with, because that’s pretty shitty, considering how willing he seemed to be.”

 

            “But we were both drunk. Maybe he just thought…”          

 

            “Thought what? That you were a chick? He was drunk, not delusional. He knew what was going on, Cas, you know he did. You were more hammered than him, and you sure as hell remember that pretty clearly.”

 

            “You’re probably right…” So, what then? Did that mean that Dean was just regretting his decision? Had it merely been nothing more than the influence of alcohol and possibly a bit of vague curiosity that had triggered the kiss? “Should I call him?”

 

            “I think so. As soon as you’re off the phone with me, why don’t you give him a call, and try to talk things out, alright?”

 

            Cas nodded, though Meg couldn’t see the gesture. They spoke for a little while longer before saying their good nights and hanging up.

 

            He had long since gotten over most of his initial shyness around Dean, but now the prospect of calling the other seemed terrifying. What was he even supposed to say?

 

            As it turned out, Cas was spared that worry for the moment, at least, for upon calling Dean’s cell, he was greeted with the boy’s voicemail.

 

            Cas swallowed the suspicion that Dean might be ignoring him, and spent a few minutes constructing a text before heading to bed.

 

 

_Hello, Dean. I’m sorry about what happened last night. You know me well enough to understand how out of my character my actions where. I hope you aren’t angry with me, and I hope the rest of your weekend went well. I will see you Monday morning._

 

 

            Cas read the message over at least three times before feeling satisfied and hitting ‘send’. It sounded open ended enough that he could have been referring to the kiss or the vomiting, and Dean could respond to whichever he preferred, assuming that he did actually respond.

 

            Cas lied his head down on his pillow, letting his eyes fall shut and trying to comfort himself with the notion that Dean had probably gone to sleep early, or had his phone off, or a million other possible things…there was no way that he would be ignoring Cas…

 

_  
Sometimes I wish I knew you well,_

 

_Then I could speak my mind and tell you,_

 

_Maybe you'd understand_

 

 

 

            Cas woke early the following morning just as the sun was coming up, realizing with a twinge of irritation that he had left his turntable on.

 

            He crawled out of bed with a yawn, shut the device off and carefully replaced the record back in its sleeve.

 

            There was no point in trying to fall back to sleep now that he was awake, so Cas just got his day started early, taking extra time in showering and eating breakfast.

 

            His phone was as silent as ever, but he hadn’t really expected Dean to try to contact him in the middle of the night.

 

            It didn’t matter anyway, because it was Monday, and the two shared P.E. together. Cas would just talk to him then.

 

            Of course this made History and Calculus crawl at an alarmingly slow pace once school started, and Cas felt like he had waited an entire day before the bell signaling the end of second period finally rang.

 

            The brunette nearly ran to the locker room, eager to finally ease his troubled thoughts and speak with Dean.

 

            He was changed into his gym shorts before the warning bell even rang, and waited impatiently out on the gym floor for Dean to make an appearance.

 

            At first Cas wondered if he was even at school today, because the class slowly filed out of the locker rooms one by one, and Dean was nowhere to be seen.

 

            It was just before the final bell rang that he appeared, looking a bit tired and took a seat on the gym floor, several rows away from Cas who was finding it difficult to keep pretending that Dean wasn’t angry. Dean didn’t even look at him.

 

            That wasn’t a good sign.

 

            Mr. McLeod, the gym teacher, barked at the students that they would be running the track and received a resounding groan of displeasure from the class.

 

            Even Cas knew that the protest was worthless; Mr. McLeod’s mood seemed to be directly connected to the misery of his students.

 

            So the class reluctantly pulled themselves to their feet, dragging towards the track where they would undoubtedly face a grueling fifty minutes.

 

            Cas didn’t mind like he normally would, though. This would at least make it easier to talk to Dean.

 

            That was what he hoped, at least, but as soon as Cas tried to approach Dean as they jogged, Dean looked straight at him, holding his gaze for a fraction of a second before he picked up his pace, leaving a slightly shocked Cas behind.

 

            It was impossible to deny at that point; Dean was avoiding him.

 

            Cas could have kicked himself.

 

            He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so angry with himself.

 

            He had finally, _finally_ started to make good with a friend at school, someone who shared interests with him, particularly on the subject of music, and he had probably just blown it. And over a stupid crush, of all things.

 

            Why couldn’t he have controlled himself that night? Why did people have to spread those rumors about him in the first place?

 

            Cas felt sick. What if Dean was completely finished with their friendship now? What if—

 

            Cas was torn from his thoughts by his teacher’s jeering voice.

 

            He hadn’t realized how much his pace had slowed down due to his distracting thoughts, but Mr. McLeod certainly had, and was making a point of letting the entire class know as well.

 

            Cas flushed half from embarrassment, half from anger and jogged a little faster, ignoring the laughter from some of his classmates.

 

            The rest of the day did not improve, and Cas wasn’t sure if it was really just going that terrible or if it was in his imagination.

 

            At any rate, the first thing he did upon returning home was to try to call Dean again.

 

            Nothing.

 

            Couldn’t he at least give Cas a chance to _talk_? It was unfair. After all the fun they had had together, Dean was really willing to drop that over a stupid kiss?

 

            Well, it had been a little more than a small kiss, but that wasn’t the point. They were supposed to be friends, and Dean was usually the one to stick up for Cas when people acted like that towards him.

 

            Cas moped the entire day, keeping his bedroom door locked and his music loud, something that greatly irritated Michael.

 

            Cas would be in trouble for it later, but at the time he didn’t care. He’d deal with that when the time came.

 

            He was grateful when it finally started to get late and he was able to fall asleep, hoping in vain that the following day would be a little better. It couldn’t really get worse, right?

 

 

 

            If Dean was so insistent on ignoring Cas, Cas was just going to have to _make_ Dean talk to him, he concluded on his way to school the next day.

 

            It was unfair and he was being childish to ignore Cas like that.

 

            So on his way to gym that day, his mind was set. He would corner Dean after class as he tried to leave the locker room. And if Dean managed to avoid him, Cas would talk to him at lunch. Or after school.

 

            Heck, he would just drive to Dean’s house if he had to. Dean wasn’t getting out of this. This was—

 

            “Castiel, what are you in such a hurry for?” A mocking voice that always made Cas’s heart skip a beat sounded in his ear as Azazel draped an arm over his shoulders, pulling Cas to an abrupt stop.

 

            Why, God, _why_ , of all days?

 

            Did it have to be _them_?

 

            Of all the days…Of _all_ the days…Did they have to do this now?

 

            “Listen, can you guys please just leave me alone today? I’m already having an awful week, and…”

 

            Cas didn’t know why he even tried. He supposed the worse his week went, the more they would enjoy it.

 

            Lilith shrieked with laughter and Alastair chortled at his feeble protest.

 

            “A bad week, you say?” Azazel spoke in a voice that oozed with false sympathy. “Well I think we have _just_ the thing to cheer you up. We wanted to have a little chat with you anyway.”

 

            Azazel steered Cas down the hallway with Alastair keeping a firm grip on the teen’s arm, and Cas felt an odd jolt of fear.

 

            Where were they taking him?

 

            Azazel, Alastair and Lilith were probably tied in last place for Cas’s least favorite people with Mr. McLeod. All four of them always seemed to have it out for poor Cas.

 

            The three were constantly throwing insults and jokes at him, and he was pretty sure that they were largely responsible for the not-so-false rumors that circulated the school regarding Cas’s sexuality.

 

            That was the problem, living in a small town. Particularly one that housed an awful lot of religious families, much like Cas’s own. No matter how forward the country moved, some minds would never be changed. Some things were always considered wrong. Some things you didn’t want to let other people know.

 

            But the fact of the matter was that while they certainly teased him, and played some pretty awful pranks, and had certainly sent Cas home with a few nasty bruises, they had never gone beyond throwing a few well-aimed punches.

 

            But being steered away from class to God-knew-where made Cas nervous. This couldn’t be a good situation at all, and he wanted to get away, but Alastair’s grip was strong.

 

            The warning bell rang and the students filtering the hallways were thinning fast.

 

            “We-we have to be in class,” Cas spoke desperately. “If Mr. McLeod finds out we’re skipping—“

 

            “What, never skipped a class before?” Alastair sneered and they all laughed, knowing full well that Cas never _had_ skipped class. He barely even missed a day at school, and had almost perfect attendance all four years of high school.

 

            They had lead Cas to the old part of the school, which was a bit less used now that they had added on a few years back.

 

            The final bell rang as they shoved him into a predictably deserted bathroom.

 

            Cas didn’t like the way they looked at him.

 

            “What do you guys want?” He said, trying to keep his voice from wavering, and standing with his back straight. The more he acted scared the worse they would be, he told himself.

 

            “Well…” Lilith spoke, dragging her nails lightly across Cas’s neck and pushing him against the wall in between two of the sinks.

 

            She was close to his face and he could smell her perfume.

 

            “You know, we’ve been hearing things. About you, little lamb.”

 

            Azazel and Alastair cackled as Lilith’s eyes raked over Cas’s features.

 

            “You know, I think your glasses are the problem.” She continued with the air of someone who had just made a new observation. “You wouldn’t be too bad looking without them. You’re actually kind of cute, Novak.”

 

            Cas didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t Lilith’s lips on his own.

 

            He froze up, not sure if he should push her away or just stand there or _what_. He was beyond confused. The boys were still laughing.

 

            Lilith pulled back after a few seconds that lasted far too long, though her face was still only inches from his own. Her nails were digging into the back of his neck.

 

            “Well now, Castiel,” She spoke, her voice soft as she switched to his first name. “You didn’t seem all that into it. You don’t know how to flatter a girl very well, do you? You look scared, lamb.” Her lips curled into a smile that was anything but friendly. “It’s funny, because it sounds like you were more than willing to get a little bit of action with a _boy_ on Saturday.”

 

            Cas felt his blood run cold.

 

            They knew.

 

            They saw, or someone saw, and someone had told.

 

            _Please, God, don’t let them know it was Dean_ , were the only other words that Cas had a chance to think before Lilith suddenly reeled back, nails cutting into Cas’s scalp as she grabbed a handful of hair and slammed his head mercilessly against the edge of one of the sinks.

 

            Stars burst in front of Cas’s eyes and for a moment he was too dazed to see, too dazed to think.

 

            He could still hear Azazel and Alastair’s mocking laughter.

 

            “No—“ Cas tried to gasp in protest, stumbling back into another sink. “That’s not what—“

 

            Somebody’s fist caught Cas in the stomach, cutting off his words and he tried to steady himself against the sink.

 

            “Hope it was worth it, fag.” Azazel’s voice was close and Cas felt strong hands shove him hard to the ground.

 

            “Stop—“ He tried again before his words were silenced by someone’s foot connecting painfully with his jaw.

 

            “Oh, that’s cute,” He recognized Alastair’s distinct voice. “But I’m not really hearing enough feeling behind it. Bet you can beg better than that.”

 

            Cas didn’t know he could hurt so bad.

 

            They didn’t _stop_. Every time he thought they might have had enough, that they might be getting tired, they just kept _going_ , fists and shoes connecting with every bit of Cas’s body that they could find until he was left a sobbing mess on the dirty floor.

 

            He couldn’t focus on anything other than the pain, and half hoped that he would just pass out soon.

 

            It was after another of the countless kicks that he was receiving sunk into his stomach and Cas began coughing violently, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth that someone spoke.

 

            He thought it was Lilith, but the voices seemed far away.

 

            “That’s enough for now. Jesus, we don’t want to kill the kid.”

 

            “Yeah, that’d be unfortunate.” They didn’t sound too torn up about the notion.

 

            A few more words were exchanged, Cas was pretty sure it was mostly slurs directed at him, and someone spat on him before they were gone, and Cas was alone.

 

            He was alone and bleeding and bruised and didn’t know if he could even move.

 

            He was shocked that he had the mind left to get help, but that was all he could think at the moment.

 

            _Get help_. _Get out of the school_.

 

            He didn’t know if he needed a hospital, or if the pain just felt worse in the moment, but he didn’t want to go to one. He didn’t want to face his family and have to explain what happened.

 

            He was scared in so many ways.

 

            It hurt spectacularly when Cas forced himself to sit up, his arms shaking to support his body.

 

            His glasses were cracked, and the room was going in and out of focus.

 

            Was he concussed? It was getting difficult to think.

 

            Cas pushed himself back against a wall, leaning gratefully against the support as he pulled his phone from his pocket with shaking hands.

 

            The screen was cracked, but it still worked.

 

            It took him three tries before he managed to dial the number he wanted.

 

            “Cassie?” Balthazar’s voice spoke with a hint of confusion on the other line. It was reassuring nonetheless. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

 

            “Bal…Balthazar…” Cas croaked, spitting a good amount of blood from his mouth before trying to speak again. “You need to….you need to come get me.”

 

            His cousin’s tone changed instantly from confusion to panic. “What’s wrong? Are you alright? Where are you?”

 

            “I’m…at school. I’m in one of the bathrooms…In the old part of the school, I think…please come get me…I don’t think I can move…I gotta go…”

 

            Holding the phone was getting difficult and Cas let his hand drop, his phone skidding across the floor as Balthazar’s voice rang on.

 

            “Hello? Hello, Cas? Cas, are you there? Shit, I’m coming to get you, just hold on.”

 

            Cas had just enough of a mind on him to feel just slightly comforted by the notion that they hadn’t seemed to have any clue who it was that Cas had been kissing at homecoming.

 

            At least Dean was out of the spotlight.

 

            It was so hard to think straight, but Cas couldn’t stop wondering who had seen them…there had been nobody else there in the parking lot, Cas was sure of it, and Meg never would have told…

 

            It was his last horrified though before completely blacking out that there was only one other person who knew what had happened that night, who had the ability to tell what had happened.

 

That person was Dean Winchester.

 


	6. I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out exactly what happened to Cas after rumors about Saturday night where spread around the school.

**I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend**

_Do you love me, babe? What do you say?_

            Dean felt like the absolute worst friend in the entire world.

            Yeah, he had felt a twinge of guilt when he ignored Cas’s phone calls and text messages, but when Monday morning P.E. rolled around and he had to actually look Cas in the eye and intentionally avoid him…well, Dean wasn’t exactly getting over that.

            The look in Cas’s eyes as the smile slid off his face wasn’t something that could be forgotten anytime soon.

            They were supposed to be friends.

            Cas had called Dean his best friend.

            _Best friends don’t usually make out in high school parking lots_ , Dean reminded himself.

            But maybe Dean was being too rash.

            After all, Dean had only kissed Cas because he had had _way_ too much alcohol that night, so couldn’t the same be just as easily applied to Cas?

            Rumors be damned, if Cas _said_ he wasn’t gay, then he probably wasn’t…right? Cas wouldn’t _lie_.

             And what reason would Cas have to lie to Dean, anyway?

            But the guilty memory of how the night had panned out gave Dean a quick answer to that question.

            After Lisa’s rude interrogation at dinner followed by Dean nearly yelling at Cas in the school bathroom at the dance, he probably had plenty of reasons to lie about that. Anyone would have. And _if_ Lisa’s suspicions held true, the one’s about Cas not only being _gay_ , but also harboring feelings for Dean…

            No.

            No, no, _no_.

            Dean refused to believe that. Cas was his friend. His _friend._ It was so ridiculous…

            But no matter how hard Dean tried to convince himself that the kiss had just been an abundance of alcohol warping their thoughts, he still couldn’t bring himself to speak to Cas.

            What if Cas wanted to talk about it? What if he proved Dean wrong, and confessed feelings for him? What if he had gotten the wrong idea? What if he asked _Dean_ what _he_ had thought of the kiss?

            That was the thing that Dean had been avidly avoiding thoughts of. It teased in the back of his mind, the memories clear because, really, Dean hadn’t had _that_ much beer…

            Cas’s lips, chapped, warm and inexperienced, surfaced in Dean’s mind so eagerly, despite Dean’s desperate attempts to repress the memory of them.

            Jesus _Christ_ , what was getting into him? Why was he remembering the night like that? The whole issue was that he was _not_ into Cas, and he was worried that his friend might be entertaining the notion that he was.

            And the thought of what his dad would do if he knew that Dean had even kissed another boy…

            Dean shuddered and continued on to gym class, lagging behind to avoid any confrontation with Cas in the locker room.

            He didn’t know how long he was planning on avoiding the other boy, but certainly wasn’t eager for gym that day.

            Dean almost considered skipping, but decided against it in the end. Mr. McLeod would know he was skipping and that bastard always looked for excuses to make life hell for his students. He didn’t take kindly to skipping class, Dean had found that out the hard way.

            It turned out, however, that Dean was spared any awkward confrontation from his friend, as Cas was nowhere to be found in the gym.

            At first Dean just found it a bit odd, but as their teacher called attendance and his eyes squinted suspiciously at Cas’s empty spot, Dean’s apprehension grew.

            A few students whispered to each other and two of them snickered.

            Dean wouldn’t have given it much concern if it were anyone other than Cas.

            Cas had near perfect attendance, something he was very proud of. He rarely got sick, and even then he would only stay home if it were serious.

            Cas loved school.

            Granted, it was still possible that he could be sick, but given the current events…Dean worried that it might be something else. The timing was too strange.

            But he also knew Cas, and he knew that Cas certainly wouldn’t stay home just because he was upset about Dean…so was something else going on?

            His worries kept Dean preoccupied all during gym where Mr. McLeod forced him to stay behind through part of lunch to run laps due to his poor performance.

            Normally Dean would have argued but not today. Worrying about Cas was taking up most of his energy.

            It wasn’t until after fifth period that Dean finally got more perspective on the issue.

            He was heading towards Chemistry when he met Meg.

            As soon as Dean spotted her he realized that she might know where Cas was. She was as close to Cas as Dean was, so if anyone knew, it would be her.

            “Hey, Meg,” He spoke, tapping the girl on the shoulder as she packed a book into her locker. “Have you seen Cas, he—“

            Dean was unable to finish voicing his thought because as soon as Meg turned and realized who was talking to her, she cracked her knuckles hard against Dean’s jaw.

            She could throw a punch harder than a lot of the people Dean had been in fist fights with.

            “Wh-what the fuck was that for!?” Dean yelled, caught between anger and complete confusion, touching his throbbing lip gingerly and tasting a bit of blood.

            “What the hell do you think it’s for? Why would you do that? Where’s Cas?”

            “Why would I do _what_? And I don’t know! That’s what I was going to ask you!”

            Meg was fuming and she glared at Dean for a long moment before grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the lockers and on looking students.

            He had no idea what she was doing until they stepped into an empty classroom, closing the door behind them. She had wanted to get out of the crowd.

            “You told! Why would you do that to him? Do you have any idea—what if his family finds out? What are you going to do then? It’s your fault if that happens!” Meg rounded on him, her cheeks read with anger. She looked like she might hit him again.

            “Meg, will you just tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”

            “I’m talking about how everyone in the whole damn school knows about you and Cas on Saturday night!”

            “ _What_!?”

            “Well, not specifically _you,_ ” She huffed. “Convenient. Leave your own God dammed name out so you don’t have to get shit about it. Like Cas doesn’t already have a hard time here! Why did you have to make it worse? God, Cas trusted you _so much_ , and he’s been so upset since Saturday after you started ignoring him, and then you go and pull _this_ shit!”

            “Meg! I didn’t tell anyone! I would never do that to Cas!”

            Meg looked unconvinced.

            “Yeah, I’ve been…I’ve been ignoring him, alright?” The guilt hit harder when he had to tell someone about it. “I know, it’s shitty but I just…I didn’t tell anyone! I wouldn’t spread rumors about Cas, that’s just fuckin’ low…”

            “Yeah, it is.” Meg paused, eyeing him. “So who saw you, then?”

            “Nobody saw us! I swear, there was nobody out there…I don’t know how…what have people been saying?”

            “That Cas was fucking making out with another guy Saturday night! It’s all over the school, Dean, you know how nasty people are…and they already had suspicions about him, anyway…so finding out that the rumors were true…”

            “They’re not true! Cas isn’t gay, he told me! He was just…he was really drunk.”

            Meg just stared at Dean with an almost pitying look that he hated, but changed the subject. “Somebody had to have found out somehow, Dean. You didn’t tell anyone? _No one_?”

            “Meg, I told you that I wouldn’t—“

            Oh, shit.

            Oh, _shit_.

            Then it hit him.

            How had he forgotten? It had been only yesterday, and he had been so pissed off about it…how did he forget that quickly?

            Dean’s blood ran cold at the memory.

            This _was_ his fault.

            Dean hadn’t spoken a word to Lisa Saturday night after they had left the dance. Cas was dropped off first, and then Lisa before Meg so that Dean didn’t have to be alone with her.

            Cas wasn’t the only one whose phone calls had gone unreturned and unanswered on Sunday.

            So Monday morning, just before first period Lisa had confronted Dean in the parking lot, angrier than Dean had ever seen her.

            Admittedly, she did have some justification behind her accusations. Dean had agreed to be her date, and he had left her alone to go hang out with Cas.

            But he had just been so fed up with her attitude all night, particularly with how much she had upset Cas while purposely trying to push his buttons.

           

_“I can’t believe you just left me like that! If you hadn’t wanted to go you could have at least told me that and I could have gotten another date, but instead I was left waiting around for you all damn night! I didn’t even have a good time!” She had yelled, cornering Dean just as he was getting out of his car._

_“Like you wanted to go with anyone else, anyway! You would have bitched and moaned for weeks about it if I had said no!”_

_“Of course I didn’t want to go with anyone else, Dean, but I have friends! I would have still had a good time even if you stayed home! My life doesn’t revolve around you! But the way you just ditched me out there pisses me off!”_

_“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been running your damn mouth about Cas all night!” Dean had been so angry. She had no reason to yell at him like that, not after the way she had been acting all night. “You fuckin’ upset him! He’s my damn friend!”_

_“I said that shit because I’m worried about you, Dean!”_

_“What do you think he’s going to do to me, Jesus Christ, Lisa? ‘Fraid he’s going to turn me gay or something?”_

_“No, Dean—I just don’t want to see you—manipulated or something!”_

_“Manipulated? What the fuck are you talking about? You’re fucking paranoid!”_

_“Well you spend so much time with him now, and sometimes I wonder about what kind of relationship you and Cas really have!”_

_“We’re friends, Lisa! We’re friends, and that’s it! You know why I spend so much time around him instead of you? Because he doesn’t act like this! Doesn’t fuckin’ scream at me in the parking lot at school!”_

_“Well, great, I’m glad you two are so close! Maybe you should have just taken Cas to Homecomeing!”_

_“Yeah, maybe I should have! Would have made a better date than you!”_

_“You were the one who was a shitty date, Dean, oh my God! And see, this is what I’m talking about! You talk about him like that!”_

_“God, that was a fucking joke I just said it because—“ But Dean had been at his breaking point, frustrated beyond reason at Lisa’s relentless drilling. “You know what, Lisa? Fine! You’re right! You know what happened? Fuckin’ Cas and I got drunk and we made out. That what you want to hear?”_

            He hadn’t meant it how it came out. He knew there wasn’t actually anything between he and Cas (nothing more than a lot of beer, at least), but Lisa didn’t know that.

            He had considered for a moment giving her a little more context, but to be honest he had been tired of her harping on him about Cas, so he just let the horrified expression dawn over her face.

            She pursed her lips, glaring at Dean and looking nearly tearful before storming back into the school without another word.

            How could he have been so _stupid_?

            How could he have possibly thought that telling Lisa… _Lisa of all people_ …

            And it made perfect sense, too. No wonder nobody knew that it was Dean that Cas had been with; Lisa would never want to get Dean into trouble. Only Cas.

            “Shit!” Dean snarled and Meg stared.

            “Dean—“

            “What the hell is _wrong_ with me?”

            “Who did you tell?”

            “Fuckin’ _Lisa_.”

            “Are you shitting me right now? Lisa? She hates Cas! Of all people! Dean you—“

            “I know! I know, alright? Fuck…just…okay, just…just go to class.”

            “But Cas—“

            “I’m going to go try to get a hold of him, okay? I’m going to try and call him and make sure he’s okay and _then_ I’ll go find Lisa.”          

            Meg still looked furious at Dean. “Don’t think that you’re forgiven so easily, Dean. That was so irresponsible and you have no idea how much Cas—“

            “Meg, just go, alright?”

            Meg wavered for a moment, clearly fighting whether or not she wanted to keep arguing, but after a few moments she cast Dean a final glowering look before stalking off.

            Dean needed a moment to pull himself together. He was so angry he could hardly see straight.

            Lisa never liked Cas, but how could she _do_ something like that? Knowing what the students at their school were like…how could she subject Cas to that sort of ridicule? Teenagers were anything but forgiving, and homosexuality wasn’t exactly well accepted where they lived…Not in such a small town with so many families like Cas’s.

            He needed to get ahold of Cas.

            He needed to get ahold of Cas, and fucking _beg_ for an apology, and make sure that he was okay.

            Why, _why_ was he out of school?

            Dean was all but running down the now empty hallway, already dialing Cas’s number before he made it to the bathroom he was heading for.

            He was in the old part of the school anyway, and there wasn’t anybody around in the hallways, (the final bell had long past signaled the start of class) so it was doubtful that he would get in any sort of trouble for having his phone out.

            “Dammit, Cas…pick up…” Dean urged, his phone pressed against his ear as he turned into the bathroom, shoving past a janitor walking out with a mop bucket.

            Dean stopped by the sinks once he was inside, pleading to himself even after the fourth ring that Cas would still pick up.

            But something else caught Dean’s attention.

            There was…music?

            From somewhere in the bathroom the muffled sounds of what Dean was fairly certain was _Rocky Raccoon_ was playing, echoing off of the tiled walls.

            Confused, he stared around.

            The ringing on his phone stopped, and the sound of Cas’s recorded voice picked up, telling Dean to please leave his name and a message.

            The music in the bathroom stopped.

            It took Dean all of three seconds for the realization mingled with a fresh burst of fear to settle in.

            Sure enough, it took only another minute for Dean to locate what was definitely Cas’s cell phone, the LCD screen spiderwebbed with cracks, and a small smear of barely dried blood along the side.

 

            “Dean!”

            He had to get to Cas’s. He had to get there, and make sure Cas was all right.

            “Dean!”

            How did he even apologize for something like this? Would Cas even forgive him? Would Cas—

            “ _Dean!_ ”

            “What!?” Dean snapped, halting in the hallway to turn around, glaring into the crowd of students pushing past each other to exit the school and get home.

            It was Lisa.

            If he had been angry with her before, it was nothing compared to how he felt at the moment. It took everything in him not to shout at her right there.

            “What the _fuck_ do you want, Lisa?” It was a struggle to keep his voice low.

            “Shit, Dean,” Lisa grabbed Dean, tugging him out of the throng of students to stand by the lockers. Her face was alight with guilt. “I didn’t—I’m so sorry. I feel terrible. I didn’t want—“           

            “Why would you do that? Why would you go telling people?” Not that it mattered. There was no excuse. Nothing that would make Dean forgive this.

            “I don’t know! Well, I do know, I just—I was so angry, you ditched me at the dance, and I’ve never liked Cas, and then after what you told me, I was so worried that you and him—but I didn’t mean for him to get _hurt_ , I just—I don’t know what I was thinking—“

            “The fuck you didn’t!” Dean snarled louder, a few students casting him concerned looks. “You’re—Wait, what do you mean _you didn’t mean for him to get hurt_? Do you know what happened to him? Where is he?”

            Lisa stared, her expression nothing short of horrified. “You haven’t…you haven’t heard?”

            “Lisa, I don’t follow the fucking gossip like you do! I found Cas’s fucking broken cell phone in the bathroom! What the hell happened?”

            “Stop yelling at me, Dean! It was Azazel, Alastair and Lilith, alright? That’s what I heard. I heard that they gave it to him pretty good.”          

            Dean would murder them. Of course it was them. Of _course_. How had he not figured that out himself? “How bad was it? Is he okay?”

            “I don’t know, Dean! I just heard rumors, okay? So nothing is reliable!”

            “What did you _hear_?”

            “I heard it was pretty bad, okay? Like…possible hospital bad.”

            “Son of a _bitch_ , Lisa, what the hell is wrong with you? What if his fucking family hears about this? You know what’ll happen?”

            “I said I was sorry, alright? I didn’t think—“

            “Yeah, I can tell.” And that was the end of it. Dean had no desire to argue with Lisa anymore. He had bigger fish to fry now that he knew what had happened.

 

 

            Dean’s problem was his hot temper. He got it from his father. Logic and straight thinking would have urged him to just leave the school, and head straight to Cas’s.

            But that was not the first thing that he had done.

            Dean swore as he climbed into his car, his knuckles throbbing from where they had collided with Azazel’s jaw, and he was sporting a bloody lip from a very well-aimed punch directed by Alastair. But it had been worth it. The pain was as satisfying as the sound of Alastair hitting the concrete, and the knowledge of coming out on top of a two-to-one brawl was even sweeter. Especially when it was for Cas’s sake.

            But now Cas was the only thing that Dean’s brain had room for anymore. Cas, hurt in more ways than one, hospitalized, possibly dealing with repercussions from his family…

            It made Dean sick as he started his car and peeled out of the parking lot, ignoring the speed limit in his desperation to reach Cas’s home.

            The drive there had never seemed to take so long.

            His tires screeched to a stop in the Novak’s driveway in a way that would have normally made him cringe, but for a rare moment his baby was the last thing on his mind.

            Dean nearly burst into the house, and only just stopped himself, choosing instead to ring the doorbell, bouncing on the balls of his feet as the anxiety of the situation continued to tighten it’s grip around his chest. It was difficult to breath.

            Samandriel’s face, pale and worried, greeted him at the door.

            “Dean?”

            “Samandriel, where is he? Where’s Cas? Is he all right?”

            Samandriel stared. “Well he-he’s at the hospital right now—Michael—Michael left a little bit ago, but I’ve hardly heard—“

            “Shit… _shit_ …the hospital?”

            “I thought you would have heard by now…I heard it from students before I was even pulled from class…They were saying—“

            “Is he going to be all right?”

            Samandriel just stared. It was strikingly similar to the way Cas would do the same thing. “I…I don’t know. Michael just told me to stay here…he texted me once, said there was…internal bleeding and that they would have to do surgery tonight…”

            “Surgery!?” That sounded bad.

            “Yeah, but I just…I really don’t know how bad…” 

            “When will you know?”

            “Dean, I really have no idea. I’m just…I’m just waiting to hear from Michael…”

            “Okay, alright…” Calm. He had to calm down. He had to _breathe_. “Samandriel, can you…if I give you my number, will you keep me updated? Let me know when you find out that he’s all right?” Because Cas _was_ all right. There was no way he could be anything _but_ all right.

            “Yeah, sure, I can do that…”

           

            Sleep did not come easy for Dean that night. He couldn’t get Cas out of his mind. Cas, beaten, bruised, hurt…Cas, who Dean had ignored for three days before all of this had happened. Cas, who was probably under the impression that Dean had intentionally told people what had transpired at Homecoming…

            Dean pressed his palms against his eyes, hating himself a little more than usual that night.

            How could he be so clueless? How could he have told Lisa? Where was his damn mind when all of that was happening?

            Cas was too good for things like this to happen to him. Dean would have taken that bullet for him any day. _Anyone_ but Cas…He didn’t even want to think about how he would feel if Cas didn’t want anything to do with Dean after all of that…not that Dean could blame him, really.

            It was late into the night that Dean finally began to settle in, his tired eyes closing and for the first time since Saturday he let himself entertain thoughts of how good Cas’s lips may have felt that night, slowly dozing off into restless, confused dreams.

 

            Dean went to school the next day and there was no Cas.

            He went to school on Thursday and there was no Cas.

            There was no word from Samandriel, and Dean, feeling anxious and terrified fretted endlessly over whether he should go back to the Novak’s to see what was going on.

            But what if it was because Cas told Samandriel not to contact Dean? It would make perfect sense.

            Would he be angry if Dean just showed up, uninvited?

            But at the same time, Dean still felt like he was justified to at least speak on his own behalf.

            Even if he had been at fault for telling Lisa, he at the very least wanted Cas to know that there was no vindication behind his mistake.

            Friday dragged on and Dean had never had a longer week.

            The rumors around school had mostly died down by that point and moved onto new and more interesting topics than Cas, but Dean hadn’t stopped worrying for a moment.

            It wasn’t until he had arrived home that afternoon, tired and anxious, that his phone finally chimed.

            His heart leaped into his throat when he read the text on his screen.

 

            _Hi, Dean. I’m sorry I didn’t text you earlier. There was a lot going on and I forgot. Cas got home this morning. He’s going to be okay, and he’ll probably go back to school on Monday. You can come see him if you want._

            Dean would have rushed down there even without the invitation.

            _Cas was okay, he was okay, he was going to be fine, he was home…_

            Dean still swore long after that day that the only evidence he had ever seen of a higher power was that he managed to avoid getting a ticket on his way to Cas’s that afternoon. His speed stayed steadily at least thirty over the limit, and stop signs became something of a suggestion.

            He had barely cut the ignition before stumbling out of the car when he reached his destination, slamming his finger against the doorbell more times than were probably necessary.

            A slightly disgruntled Michael answered.

            “The doorbell is not a toy, Dean.” He said, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips at Dean’s form standing on the doorstep.

            “I need to see Cas.”

            Dean could tell that Michael was struggling to find a reason to deny him entrance into the house, but he didn’t refuse Dean.

            Dean was far from ignorant to how little Michael seemed to like him, but he knew that Dean was Cas’s only friend other than Meg. That must have been why he still let Dean hang around.

            Dean rushed up the stairs to Cas’s room and the anxieties of finally speaking to Cas about everything suddenly hit him, full swing.

            What if Cas hated him? What if he turned Dean away as soon as Dean stepped into that room? What if he never wanted to see Dean’s face again, and decided that their friendship wasn’t worth getting pummeled over?

            Dean stood, his hand on the doorknob for a few tense moments, building up the courage to face the boy who had become, since that first hang-out and pinball game, the last thing on Dean’s mind before sleep, and the first thing waiting when he woke up.

            Dean opened the door.

            Cas was sitting up on his bed, pillows propped up behind his back and a book in his hands.

            He looked terrible.

            His face was battered and swollen, dark bruises creating ugly patterns under his eyes and across his jaw. They disappeared underneath his shirt collar and Dean suspected that his entire body probably looked just as bad.

            The turntable was unsurprisingly entertaining sounds of the Beatles.

            Cas looked up when Dean entered, his blue eyes, which somehow stood out brighter against the backdrop of purple widened behind his glasses.

            “Dean?”

            “Hey, Cas.”

            Dean saw about twenty different emotions run through Cas’s face all at once, which took him a bit off guard, as Cas was normally impossible to read.

            “I wanted to—“

            “Why did you _tell_ people?”

            The question hit a hell of a lot harder than Alastair had, and Dean would have taken a hundred more swollen lips to never hear the hurt that was in Cas’s voice again.

            The guilt held Dean’s words on his throat, twisted his stomach, hissed into his ear to just turn around and leave that room because he wasn’t worth Cas’s time anymore.

            “Cas, I didn’t—“ He had gone over this countless times in his mind. Why was it so hard now? Why did those damn eyes make it so difficult to focus?

            Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. “It was an accident, Cas. A stupid accident. I just…I told Lisa, and it was dumb, but I just got angry and caught up in the idiot things she was saying and before I knew it I just _told_ her, and then she…Lisa’s the one who told the school. I’m not trying to justify what I did! It was still my fault but I’m sorry Cas, I’m so fucking sorry, when I didn’t see you at school on Tuesday…” It had all sounded so much better in his head.

            Cas was once again unreadable.

            “But you ignored me. I called you and I texted you…I tried to talk to you at school. I thought you were angry. I thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

            “No, Cas, I wasn’t…I wasn’t angry with you, and I’m sorry for ignoring you. That was pretty damn shitty. I was just…”

            Now it was there. The subject was hovering between them, begging to be addressed. There really wasn’t any way around it at this point.

            “I was just shaken up after Saturday night.”

            Cas didn’t respond, just stared, and Dean wished he would say something.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

         

  The Beatles always had too much to say at times like this, Dean thought, hating the silence that was just continuing to grow more and more uncomfortable between them.

            When words finally came, they both spoke at the same time, words rushed and nervous.

            “I didn’t mind kissing you that night.”

            “I’m so sorry for kissing you that night.”

            Silence again.

            “Oh.”

            “Wait, you—you didn’t mind?”

            “Well…” God this was horrible, Dean couldn’t do this sort of thing. Why couldn’t they just skip all the awkward exchanges and get this over with? “No. Not like…not like I thought I would.”

            Disbelief was all over Cas’s face. “You didn’t mind kissing me.” He repeated and Dean wished he wouldn’t.

            “That’s…what I said.” Dean took a step closer to Cas. “But when I asked you, before…in the bathroom. You said that you weren’t—“

            “I lied.”

            This had always been so easy with girls.

            “Well…that’s, uh, that’s good then.”

            Cas was staring at him almost expectantly and Dean hated it. Why was this all on him?

            “So do you…do you wanna…”

            “Yes.”

            This was not how this had gone in his head at all. The fact that he had even _thought_ about this before was a lot to deal with in itself. And now the proposal was out there…

            But Dean found himself surprisingly able to ignore the frantic beating of his heart as he crossed the rest of the room to Cas’s bed, and even felt a smile curling on his lips as he leaned in, eager to know what Cas tasted like without the hindrance of alcohol to get in the way.

 

           


	7. I'll Stop The World (And Melt With You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is nervous about his first day back at school, and Dean takes him out on their first real date together.

**I’ll Stop The World (And Melt With You)**

_The future’s open wide_

            Cas wished that the weekend would never end. He didn’t want to sit in class, to do homework, to really do _anything_ other than lie around with Dean, listening to music and running fingers through each other’s hair while they mumbled quiet song lyrics into their kisses.

            Dean’s lips never stopped being soft and warm, his touch never stopped giving Cas goosebumps. His name on Dean’s lips was smooth and sounded better than it ever had.

            Cas didn’t even ask about the homework he had missed, and if Dean had thought to pick it up for him, and that was a first. Church rarely even came before school in Cas’s eyes, and he would have been thrown off by the sudden change in priority if he wasn’t so focused on Dean’s touch. He’d worry about school when Monday finally reared its head, and that was still days away.

            Dean, predictably, was not allowed to stay the night. Michael had always been weird about that, and he still had yet to warm up to Dean, even a little bit. He seemed to struggle a lot even with letting Dean hang around the entire weekend.

            Cas guessed that Michael was being lenient because of Cas’s accident, but he was grateful, whatever the reason.

            Luckily as well, Michael was far too dense to assume anything other than a close friendship between the two. Cas figured that he and Dean would have to be standing right in front of him, full-on making out for him to gather any sort of idea of their relationship.

            The bruises didn’t seem to hurt so much anymore. In fact, the whole incident seemed so far away at that point…who cared what the students at school were like, anyway? Cas had Dean now. None of the other kids were important. It was Dean and Cas against the world, and that sounded just perfect to him, if not a little bit cliché.

            Meg stopped by on Saturday and she and Dean both stayed late until a very irritable Michael ushered them both out, complaining with no subtlety about how if more people were dedicated to church, they wouldn’t be up so late on Saturdays.

            Cas had been filled in on everything that had happened in his absence while they were still there, and he could tell that Meg wasn’t exactly ready to cozy up next to Dean again. She seemed happy for Cas, but protective an almost maternal way.

            She’d come back around, though. Cas knew she would.

            Unfortunately, for all the unbelievably amazing hours Cas had had over the weekend with Dean, it had to come to an end eventually.

            Monday wouldn’t stay away forever, and sooner than he wished, Cas found himself driving the short way back to his high school, the dread which he had been putting off since Friday building up in his chest with each mile.

            Samandriel, whom Cas sometimes drove to and from school, was chatting endlessly in Cas’s ear, though Cas didn’t hear a word of it.

            “Cas?” It took about two more repeats of Cas’s name before the older teen finally heard him.

            “Huh?”

            “Are you alright? I mean, I know you’re usually quiet, but…”

            “Yes, I’m…I don’t know, I suppose just nervous.”

            “Because of what happened? You’re worried that they’ll keep bullying you?”

            Cas opened his mouth to respond, but something struck him as strange about his brother’s words.

            He hadn’t told his family that the injuries had come from students at school, because he knew how that would end; Michael would march down to the school and complain to the faculty.

Azazel, Alistair, and Lilith would get little more than a slap on the wrist because Azazel’s father was on the school board, and the principal was a pushover. Cas would receive painful retaliation for tattling, and the whole thing would just happen all over again.

So the best option turned out to just be lying, even though Cas hated to.

He was relieved when Michael bought it, too; Cas had never been a good liar. Luckily, Balthazar had been told the truth, as he had been the one to pick Castiel up from school, and after a lot of begging and insistence that getting the trio into trouble would do nothing other than cause more problems, Balthazar agreed to give Michael a cover story.

So his cousin fed Michael some lies about Cas leaving campus during lunch and getting beaten up while his wallet was stolen.

Cas privately thought mugging was a bit of a weak lie, considering that they lived in a rural area, but Michael had apparently bought it without question.

And getting bullied in retaliation wasn’t the only thing that worried Cas, either. Michael would have undoubtedly asked why the students had beaten Cas to a pulp, and while there were probably hundreds of good cover stories for that, Cas thought it best to keep his family as far as possible from that line of questioning.

So, if nobody in Cas’s family had been told what had happened, why did Samandriel know that Cas had been bullied? Had he seen through the lie? Samandriel _was_ rather perceptive.

But then Cas realized, feeling a bit idiotic for not thinking about it earlier. Samandriel would have heard through the constant gossip through students that Cas had gotten beaten up. After all, according to Meg and Dean, it had been all over the school. And being Cas’s younger brother, of course people would have said things to him. Samandriel would have been hearing all about—

The tires on Cas’s car screeched in protest as he slammed his foot on the breaks, pulling over to the side of the road.

“Cas!? Cas, what are you doing!? Are you okay!?”

Cas gripped his steering wheel with trembling hands, his eyes wide.

Samandriel _knew_. Everybody at school knew now, and Samandriel would be no exception.

The rumors regarding Cas at Homecoming had spread like wildfire. How had he not thought about Samandriel hearing them?

And if Samandriel knew, did that mean Michael knew? Or Gabriel? Or anybody else in his family?

Cas felt his breakfast churn horribly in his stomach at the thought of it.

What if they sent Cas away? What if he wasn’t allowed to see Dean? Would they put him in therapy, or would they just disown him like they had done with Lucifer?

“Samandriel!” Cas snapped, his voice reaching and octave higher than it normally rested.

“W-what!?”

“What—what rumors have you heard about me at school?”

The confusion disappeared from Samandriel’s face and he looked uncomfortable, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“People—people say that you’re gay.” Samandriel stammered.

But that wasn’t the answer that Cas was looking for. People had been spreading those rumors regarding Cas’s sexuality since Freshman year, and everybody knew about that. But that was all it had been, until last week—baseless rumors. But there was proof now. Definite proof. That was what scared Cas the most.

“I know that!” Cas spoke loudly, trying to keep the rising sense of panic under control. “I mean recently!”

Samandriel was silent at first, and Cas kept his eyes on the steering wheel, too afraid to look at his brother.

When Samandriel spoke again, his voice was quiet. “That you—you were kissing another boy at Homecoming.”

The fact hung in the air between them, brutal reality reminding Cas of how many risks he was taking by going with Dean.

“Did you tell Michael?”

“No.”

They were quiet again and Cas was caught between denying the rumors and just coming clean. Hiding was a lot of work and Cas hated to lie.

Samandriel spoke, solving Cas’s problem for him.

“It’s Dean, isn’t it?” He asked, cutting the hanging silence and adding to the uncomfortable words drifting around the empty spaces in the car.

“Yes.” Cas croaked, surprised that his voice even worked at that moment. “It—it’s Dean.” Who else would it be? Nobody could compete with Dean on any level.

“I don’t want you to go to Hell.” Samandriel spoke the words very fast and Cas finally looked over at his youngest brother.

Samandriel was still staring with determination at his lap. He looked close to tears.

“Do—do you—do you think I’m going to?”

“I don’t know.” He answered after a painful pause.

“I…I don’t think I will.”

“You don’t? But the bible says—“

“Forget—just for a minute, what the bible says. It says a lot of things, and it was written by man. Man makes mistakes…and…and God doesn’t. God doesn’t make mistakes, and He—He didn’t make a mistake with me, Samandriel. I _tried_ for years to fight this, I really did. I tried date—dating a girl, and I just…I fought this for so long, but it didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t choose this, God just...made me this way, I suppose.”

Samandriel finally looked up at Cas, his brows knitted together. “Cas I don’t…I really don’t know what to believe.”

“I’m happy. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“But couldn’t you maybe be happy with a girl?”

Cas sighed and turned back to stare out the windshield. “No, Samandriel, I just told you…” But was he really going to get it? It had taken Cas years. He doubted that one car ride was going to make a big difference. “You aren’t going to tell Michael, are you?”

Samandriel shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t do that.”

Cas didn’t really know where to go from there. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of that…of course Samandriel would hear, they went to the same school…

Still feeling shaken up, Cas started the car back up and pulled back onto the road. They didn’t speak for the rest of the drive to school.

As soon as they arrived at the parking lot Cas spotted Dean, leaning against his car and waiting for him.

Cas parked, and bade goodbye to Samandriel who smiled nervously at Dean before scurrying into the school.

“What’s with you?” Dean questioned, quirking an eyebrow at Cas’s uneasy expression.

Cas moved over to him, leaning against the side of the car and stared forlornly at the school building. He didn’t want to go back in there. “Samandriel found out.”

“Found out about—oh…oh, shit. Did—did he tell Michael or anyone?”

“No, it’s just Samandriel, but it just…I’m just all shaken up from it, and now today’s going to be my first day back here after what happened and I just…”

“Hey, hey, Cas, c’mon. Look at me.” Dean brushed his fingers over the back of Cas’s hand, and the brunette stared up at him. He wished they didn’t have to be so subtle at school. It was difficult not to just be kissing those lips most of the time.

“I’ve got you.” Dean spoke, and Cas was caught in the shape of his lips around the words. Dean’s voice was soothing and his rough finger tracing subtle circles over Cas’s knuckle dropped his heart rate by a few beats. He already felt better just looking into those green eyes. “If any of your brothers was likely to come around it’s Samandriel, and I bet you he will once he’s had time to think on it. And those kids here at school? You really think I’ll let them near you?”

Dean was right and Cas nodded, dreaming longingly of that evening when they might get some alone time and Cas could remind himself what the exact flavor of Dean’s lips was.  
            “And you know what else? I’m going to take you out tonight. I think I owe you a first date.”

Cas lit up at that, his anxieties about his family and schoolmates melting away at the warm reassurance in Dean’s words.

“A date?” The word felt delightfully unfamiliar on his tongue. Cas had never been on an actual date before.

“Yeah, you know, when two really good looking guys go out together for burgers and maybe catch a movie.”

“I _know_ what a date is, Dean.”

“Hey, I dunno. You’ve never seen Star Wars so I figure you’re sheltered enough to not know what a date is.”

Cas just laughed, low and quiet, and pulled away from the car. “Come on. We’d better head in. I don’t want to be late.”

Cas’s mood stayed relatively cheery through his first two classes. He loved getting back into learning, especially after nearly an entire week out of school, and his teachers were more than accommodating for his absence, giving him plenty of time to catch up on his missed work.

What with that and the prospect of a date with Dean after school, he didn’t even think a run in with Azazel and his gang could dampen his mood.

That was until third period crept up, and Cas had to face something that he had been vehemently trying to ignore.

His nerves suddenly burned hot, washing away the security of Dean’s words and replacing it with a gripping anxiety.

Third period was P.E., and it was Cas’s least favorite class for more than one reason.

Cas, while not exactly unfit, was far from athletic. Hiking and rock climbing with his brothers growing up had gifted Cas with stamina and agility, but nothing that even resembled coordination, or an ability to work with others in organized sports. He was terrible in the class, and sharing it with Azazel, Alastair, and Lilith who were always laughing at him and giving him a hard time didn’t help.

But that wasn’t even the worst part of it all. What really made the class unbearable was Mr. McLeod.

He wasn’t even a real P.E. instructor. He taught Chemistry, but the school lost their old P.E. teacher a few years back and, for whatever reason, had asked McLeod to sub. Somehow he never left the position. Cas was pretty confident that that was illegal, as McLeod definitely wasn’t certified to teach P.E., but the school didn’t seem to care. They looked over a lot of things, and Cas had the bruises to prove it.

So Mr. McLeod would strut around the edge of the gym floor, dressed in a tailored suit just to let everyone know that he certainly wouldn’t be participating in any athletics, and bark orders at the students.

Cas secretly thought that he enjoyed teaching gym because of how much the man seemed to delight in torturing his students. It was an easy class to do that with.

Some of the students had even given him the affectionate nickname, ‘The King of Hell’. It suited him well because his classes were just that: hellish.

Every once in a while McLeod would find a particular student that he would take a personal interest in directing his malevolence toward.

Cas was one of those unlucky students.

The previous year Cas had taken A.P. Chemistry, a class that would have been grueling even from a normal teacher.

Cas, however, excelled, achieving a nice shiny A, much to the displeasure of McLeod.

He seemed to thrive off of failing students, and he had certainly tried to at least give Cas a B, but there was only so much that could be done, short of outright miss-grading.

He had hated Cas ever since, something that he made no attempt at masking.

So when Cas stepped into his P.E. class at the start of the semester, McLeod took delight in making the class as strenuous as possible for him. Running extra laps, cleaning up when they played sports, and even getting him into trouble for ridiculous reasons like wearing mismatched socks with his gym uniform.

It was brutal.

So on one hand, the doctor’s note clutched in Cas’s right hand was a blessing. Three weeks out of gym due to his surgery.

But on the other hand…well, McLeod couldn’t force Cas to participate in gym, right? And there probably wasn’t anything worse he could put Cas through in it’s place…right?

Cas slipped into the locker room where his class was already beginning to change into their gym clothes.

He spotted Dean (looking nothing short of gorgeous as he pulled his shirt off over his head), and flashed him a nervous smile and a reassuring wave.

He didn’t linger, though (staring at his half-dressed boyfriend in the locker room would not help his already tainted image), and headed to the back of the room to McLeod’s office.

He knocked tentatively, but didn’t wait for an answer before stepping in.

McLeod had certainly taken the time to decorate his office in a way that made it look as far from a gym teacher’s office as possible.

His office used to be upstairs in the science department, and Cas would bet that he hadn’t been happy when they moved him down there upon taking up a second position as P.E. teacher.

The walls were decorated with artifacts and items from different places all over the world. Cas vaguely knew that he had traveled a lot, but he didn’t know nor really care much why.

The colors were rich and dark, with deep maroons and browns making the room feel dim. Cas had to wonder, as his eyes scanned the rug spread over the floor and the polished desk, what his home looked like, if this was how he kept his high school gym office. It seemed like a lot of wasted effort.

The right half of the room held large windows that looked out onto the gym floor. Probably so McLeod could sit on his ass and still make sure the students were doing what they were supposed to.

Cas felt a small satisfaction in that McLeod hadn’t _quite_ been able to mask the smell of gym socks from the room.

“Ah, Castiel.” McLeod spoke from his perch behind his desk. He smirked in a way that made Cas want to knock one of the expensive looking decorations off the wall. “Good to see you’re still skulking around. I hear that was quite a _nasty_ beating you took.”

The condescension in his voice had Cas angry before he had even finished speaking.

“I have a doctor’s note that says I have to sit out of gym for three weeks.” Cas replied in a cold voice.

Cas was always polite to teachers, but McLeod was his only exception. He couldn’t care less how he acted or what he said to that man.

“Well, that’s a real shame.” He said, ignoring the sheet of paper that Cas was trying to give to him. “Well, angel, we can’t just have you sitting around with nothing to do then, can we?”

Cas shivered. What could he possibly come up with? “I’m not supposed to—“

“Yes, yes, do anything strenuous. But this is _school,_ after all. If you aren’t going to participate in class, you’re going to have to do something productive.”

“But I—“

“I’ll tell you what,” He stood up from his chair, walking around his desk to Cas who shrunk away. “I seem to remember you doing _extraordinarily_ well in my Chemistry class last year. One of the only As I’ve had to give out.”

Cas watched him wearily, eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

“If that brain of yours is still working as well as I assume it does, how about you help me out, and I’ll do you a favor right back. You take care of grading my Chemistry class’s papers, and I’ll let you sit out of gym for the rest of the year.”

Cas stared, trying to make sure that he had heard the man correctly.

“That’s illegal. I’m not a teacher; I can’t grade their papers. That’s your _job._ What do you even do? You’ll get fired if you passed your work onto students.” What the hell was wrong with him?

“Yes but you aren’t going to tell them, are you sweetheart? Because while you may not be a teacher, you know you can do the work well enough, and you won’t have to deal with this class ever again. It’s your Senior year, after all.”

Cas just continued to stare, and he could see the smirk growing on McLeod’s face.

“Why?”

“Why? Because I don’t want to grade all of those bloody papers, that’s why. Bunch of idiot students who can barely spell, let alone do their Chemistry homework right.”

Cas knew it wasn’t right, and that he really shouldn’t trust anything McLeod said to him, but the prospect of never having to step foot out on that gym floor again was so promising. And at least if he was doing the grading, McLeod wouldn’t be able to unfairly fail students…

“I can see you’re thinking about it. Just save us both the time and say yes so we can be on our way.”

“So if I do this,” Cas said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “You’re going to give me a passing grade for P.E., and I don’t have to actually participate in class?”

“Correct.”

“And all I have to do is grade the work turned in by your Chemistry students?”

“Look at you, you really are as smart as they always say you are. So it’s a deal?”

“…Fine. I’ll do it, but you’d better not go back on your promise to pass me.”

“You’ve got more bite than people give you credit for, Castiel.” McLeod said with a laugh that just infuriated Cas further.

He walked back around his desk and rifled through some papers before setting down a stack right in the middle of the desk, along with a grading sheet.

“Well then, get to work. No time to waste.” And with that he swept out of the office, heading out to the gym where the rest of the class was waiting and leaving Cas alone with the work.

Despite the initial confrontation, Cas had to acknowledge that, at the very least, this was better than actually being in P.E., even if it _was_ at least a bit dishonest…

Cas spent the following class forgetting about McLeod and focusing instead on Dean, wonderful Dean who was going to be taking him out on a date later that night…

The bell for lunch couldn’t have come fast enough, and Cas slung his backpack over his shoulder, hurrying to the cafeteria, wanting to avoid another conversation with McLeod.

For the first time in his high school career Cas was abandoning his usual lone table that he occupied in the corner, and headed over to where he knew Dean sat with his friends.

Cas could tell from the instant that he approached them that both Charlie and Garth knew about the details of their relationship. Their smiles were too knowing.

He knew vaguely who both of them were, but they had never actually spoken before.

“Hi, Cas.” Charlie chirped before anybody else had a chance to speak, moving over to create extra space for Cas to sit and tucking a few stray strands of her fire red hair behind her ear.

He took the seat, smiling a bit nervously. Meeting new people always set him on edge, and considering the fact that they were his boyfriend’s best friends…

“I’m Charlie, and this is Garth,” She gestured to the scrawny boy sitting opposite of her, occupying the seat next to Dean.

Cas greeted them both with a polite hello, but Dean saved him the trouble of having to make conversation.

He informed Cas that both Charlie and Garth were musicians as well, and from there their conversation snowballed.

They talked about bands, favorite songs, instruments they played (Charlie played the guitar and favored the bass, while Garth was well rounded with several instruments), and conversation came wonderfully easy.

By then Cas’s worries about McLeod were a thing of the past, and he remained for the rest of the school day in a sort of happy daze, awaiting eagerly for the final bell to ring.

Predictably it felt like forever, dragging on like the days always did when one was expecting something fun, but the afternoon eventually showed itself, and Cas practically ran through the hallways and out to the parking lot where Dean was already waiting for him, leaning casually against the side of the Impala and looking like a godsend.

“Hey, babe.” Dean spoke as soon as he spotted Cas, his lips instantly splitting into a warm smile.

“Hello.” Cas replied, returning the smile as Dean opened the passenger side door for him.

Once Cas was settled in, Dean got in on his side, starting the car and turning to just grin at Cas.

“So, first date it is. I’m thinkin’ my earlier idea still sounds pretty good. Cheeseburgers and a movie?”

“That sounds perfect.” Cas didn’t care what they did, as long as he was with Dean.

So they did just that. They found a quiet diner where they could order burgers and milkshakes (Cas watched the way Dean’s lips curled around the straw each time he took a drink), holding hands across the table because there was nobody there that they knew.

After lunch they headed out to the theater where Cas got very excited to find that they were showing some sort of Wizard of Oz spinoff about the Wizard himself, and after about five solid minutes of begging, Dean agreed that they could see that one.

So popcorn and soda was bought, despite the lunches they had both eaten not much earlier, and they sat in the dark theatre, smiling each time their fingers brushed on the way to get a handful of popcorn.

Cas loved the movie, though Dean seemed less enthusiastic as the brunette raved the entire drive back to the school to get Cas’s car.

Dean commented that Cas had terrible taste in movies and only liked it because it was based on the Wizard of Oz, and Cas didn’t really understand why that was an issue. The Wizard of Oz _was_ a great film, so it followed that any other movie based on it would be at least decent.

That was how Cas felt, at least.

The car ride back was far too short, and even as they sat in the parking lot, the engine still running in Dean’s car, Cas didn’t get out.

Michael wasn’t going to let Dean come over on a school night, especially after he had hung around all weekend, and it was already pushing late evening.

And besides, it was so warm in the car with the heat blaring, music playing, and Dean’s lips were just too inviting.

Cas was leaning against his seat, seatbelt still strapped across his chest, lips locked onto Dean’s and positively melting at the warmth and the softness of the other boy’s kiss.

He wished he didn’t have to go back home. He didn’t want to go do homework or be around his family or do anything other than sit in that car with Dean, listening to music and forgetting about everything else that should matter.

 

_People talkin' all around 'bout the way you left me flat,_   
_I don't care what the people say, I know where their jive is at._   
_One thing I do have on my mind, if you can clarify please do,_

Dean’s hand slid up Cas’s arm, over his shoulder, fingers brushing the teen’s collar. Cas felt chills that had nothing to do with the autumn air outside the car, and pressed his lips with more force against Dean’s.

            Dean chuckled against the kiss, presumably at Cas’s inexperience, and Cas felt his cheeks grow hot from embarrassment. But that was quickly wiped from his mind as he felt Dean’s teeth scrape over his bottom lip, and Cas breathed heavily against Dean’s face, his whole body feeling warm despite the shivers that kept coursing up his spine.

           

_It's the way you call me by another guy's name when I try to make love to you._   
_I try to make love but it ain't no use._   
_Give it to me,_   
_Give it,_

            Cas opened his mouth willingly against Dean’s, wanting to taste him, wanting his hands to feel every inch of the other boy’s body, wanting—

            He jumped as the sound of his phone’s ringtone mingled in with the music playing from Dean’s car stereo, his mind broken from its focus on Dean.

            He reached into his pocket to answer, and his heart fell when he heard Michael’s voice on the other line.

            “Castiel? Where are you? It’s almost dinnertime. Why didn’t you come home straight after school?”

            “Sorry, Michael, I was with some of my friends…”

            “Castiel, it’s a school night and you’ve been off for an entire week. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of homework you need to catch up on, and you need to spend some time with your brothers. You were with your friends all weekend.”

            “Yes, I know…” Cas replied, sounding forlorn. “I’m heading home now…I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

            “Good. I’m watching the clock.”

            Cas hung up the phone and looked sadly at Dean. “Sorry, Dean. That was Michael. I’ve got to go home…he’s already angry. Wish you could come with…he’d probably loose his mind, though.”

            “Sorry, babe,” Dean mumbled, his lips still trailing along Cas’s jaw, reluctant to leave Cas alone. “Didn’t mean to get you in trouble. Michael seriously needs to learn how to loosen up.”

            Cas laughed humorlessly. “The day that that happens is the day that I start listening to the top 40 stations on the radio.”

            He unbuckled his seatbelt, and placed his hand on the door handle, finding it impossibly difficult to pull himself away from Dean’s touch. “But I’ll see you tomorrow at school, at least. And you can probably come over after. Michael won’t be happy about it, but we still need to work on your tutoring.”

            “Yeah, tutoring.” Dean hummed, and Cas knew he wasn’t thinking about Shakespeare. “Sounds good.”

            So Cas had to practically tear himself away from Dean, stepping out of the car and waving sadly at him before getting into his own car and heading home.

 

            “Castiel,” Michael spoke as he, Samandriel and Cas were seated around the dinner table eating. “What’s been going on with you? You’ve been staying out when you aren’t supposed to, not calling when you don’t come home after school…I’m going to have to start implementing some stricter rules for you around here if you don’t start shaping up. Are your grades falling? Is something going on with you that you should know about?”

            Cas had felt his irritation rising ever since he had gotten home with Michaels train of conversation. It was so unfair. Samandriel hung out with his friends, so why did Cas get penalized for doing the same?

            “No, my grades aren’t falling! I’m doing as well as I’ve always done! Why are you always getting on me? I don’t even do anything wrong! I just made some actual _friends_ recently.”

            Michael pursed his lips and he could tell that he and Cas both had very different ideas of what ‘friends’ were like. “Why don’t you try to make more friends from church? You could join a bible studies group.”

            Cas groaned, rolling his eyes at the ceiling in very teenaged sort of way. “I _am_ in a bible studies group. Do you even pay attention? I go to Balthazar’s and his friends from church.”

            “I meant a bible studies group from _our_ church. You know how I feel about—“

            “Yes, Michael, I know how you feel about Balthazar and me hanging around him, but you haven’t been able to change that for years, so I don’t understand why you keep trying.”

            “Castiel, do _not_ speak to me like that. I am—“

            “You’re my _brother_ , not my parent, and I don’t have to listen to every damn—“

            “Castiel Novak, I will not have that language at this dinner table, especially not around your younger brother!”

            Samandriel slid down in his seat, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere than at that dinner table, getting dragged into an argument between Cas and Michael.

            “Get over yourself, Michael! I said _damn_ , big deal! Samandriel is fifteen, like he’s never heard that word before! I can say much worse than that!”

            “Castiel, you are on a good track to get yourself grounded right now, if you don’t want—“

            “Wow, I’m going to get grounded. That would probably be a worse threat if you would let me hang out with my fucking friends once in a while without already getting pissed off at me!”

            Michael and Samandriel both started, and even Cas felt a little bit guilty, but his anger was burning stronger at the moment. Cas rarely ever swore, particularly to that degree, but every once in a while it was a good option to turn to when he wanted to really get under Michael’s skin.

            Michael stood up, his face bright red, his voice shaking with fury. “Castiel—room—now—for the rest of the night—“

            “I was done eating anyway!” Cas yelled, standing up and nearly knocking his chair over.

            He didn’t give Michael a chance to say anything else before he swept out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room, locking his door and playing music loud enough for the whole house to hear.

 

            He tried to do homework that night, sitting down with his books and looking into the work he had missed, but he just couldn’t focus. He was still angry at Michael’s unjust words, and wished that he was with Dean instead of alone at home.

            Even after he gave up on his homework and lied down to go to bed, sleep took much longer to come over him than usual, and he was restless all night.

 

            _Tap, tap_.

            Cas awoke with a start, staring blearily around his dark room, his groggy mind trying to figure out what had woken him up.

            He reached blindly for his glasses, cramming them onto his face once he had located them and staring again for the source of his disturbance.

            _Tap, tap_.

            There it was again. It sounded like something was at his window. Cas stood up, yawning widely and was just about to move across his room when the distinct sound of his window scraping against the siding as it opened stopped him in his tracks, a dark figure stepping into his room.

            Cas was frozen before about two seconds before his sleepiness was completely washed away by a gripping sense of fear.

            “Holy shit—wh-who the—I’ll call the cops!” Panic reeled through his mind so quickly that he couldn’t even think of what to say. He stumbled backwards, hitting his bed and nearly falling over. “I’m not kidding, I will—“

            “Jesus, Cas, shut the hell up!” An unmistakable voice whispered back through the darkness, his hand quickly pressing over Cas’s mouth. “You wanna wake your damn brothers up?”  
            Cas blinked as light suddenly filled his room and Dean’s green eyes blinked back at him, his free hand reaching over to turn the lamp on Cas’s bedside table on.

            “Dean?” Cas gasped, pushing the other’s hand away from his face. “What are you doing here?” He couldn’t believe what he was seeing and almost wondered if this was a dream.

            Dean hitched a smirk, that smirk that always made Cas melt so easily and stood up straight. “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’m here to rescue you.”

            Cas just stared blankly at Dean, blinking a few times before he finally spoke. “Sorry…isn’t that from Star Wars or something? I don’t really understand that reference…you know I haven’t seen them yet.”

            “I know, and that’s why we’re going to fix that one of these days. You’ll have to come over to my house soon so we can—“

            “Castiel?” Michael’s voice was suddenly heard from the other side of Castiel’s door.

            “Hide!” Cas hissed, his blood running cold as he pushed Dean to the floor by his shoulders, urging him under the bed.

            The handle on Cas’s door jiggled. “Castiel, why is your door locked? Let me in.”

            As soon as Cas was confident that Dean was out of sight, he moved to unlock the door, opening it to stare up at a very tired and disgruntled looking Michael wearing a fluffy housecoat.

            “Castiel, I heard you yelling. Do you have any idea what time it is?” He peered suspiciously over Cas’s shoulder, trying to look into his room.

            “Er, sorry, Michael. I had a nightmare and it woke me up. I was sort of disoriented, and I thought someone was in my room.”

            Michael didn’t look entirely convinced. “Why is your window open? It’s _October_.”

            “Oh,” Cas glanced nervously over his shoulder. “Well, I was really shaken up. I just wanted a little bit of fresh air.”

            Michael stared around for a few moments before giving up on whatever it was he was looking for and staring back down at Cas. “Well close that up and get back to bed. You have school in the morning. You need to get a good night’s rest.”

            He must have decided that Cas was trustworthy, that or he couldn’t come up with another explanation because he left Cas on that, walking back down the hall to return to his bedroom.

            Cas let out the breath he had been holding through the entire conversation and slowly closed his door again, turning around to spot Dean just as he was emerging from underneath Cas’s bed, looking a bit disheveled.

            “Jeez, Cas. Didn’t know you liked to get that rough…”

            “What are you doing here? If Michael had seen you do you know what he would have—“

            “But he didn’t.” Dean said, cutting Cas off and moving to brush a hand over his cheek. “I came ‘cause I wanted to see you. I missed you already.”

            Cas softened a bit at Dean’s words. It was incredibly difficult to be angry with someone when they spoke to Cas like that.

            “And look, I brought you flowers.” He continued, puffing his chest out proudly and whipping out a now very crumpled looking bouquet of purple lilacs.

            Cas beamed at that, feeling warm all over as he took the sad little bouquet out of Dean’s hands and looked down at them. “Lilacs.” He mused. “Nobody has ever given me flowers before.”

            “Yeah, well, I know it’s pretty cheesy, but,” Dean rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck and shrugged. “Ya know. Thought you’d probably like that sort of thing. There’s a flower place by my house—“

            “A florist?”

            “Yeah, that, so I went over there after our date. She said that lilacs meant something like the first feelings of love, so—I don’t know. Just seemed like the dumb sort of thing you might like.”

            Dean was clearly trying to save face of some sort, and it just made him seem more attractive to Cas. He stepped foreword, pressing their lips together and he felt Dean relax a little.

            “I love them.”

            “Do ya?”

            “Yes. They’re great. Thank you, Dean.”

            “You’re welcome.” Dean replied, smiling against Cas’s lips.

            They stood there for a moment, attached at the lips, hands gracing over each other’s waists and just feeling glad to be together.

            Dean seemed to get a bit impatient pretty quickly, however, and it wasn’t long before he was pushing Cas backwards, back towards his bed.

            Cas fell down, laughing quietly. “Dean, hang on—the flowers—“ He crawled towards his table, setting them down before he turned onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows and grinning up at Dean.

            “Damn,” Dean mumbled, moving to join Cas on the bed. “Look at you…”

            He latched his lips back over Cas’s, hands slowly tracing up Cas’s hip to rest just over the hem of the brunette’s pajama pants.

            Cas could tell Dean was trying his best to be gentle as Cas was still pretty battered up from the previous week.

            Cas’s arms wrapped around the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him in to deepen the kiss that had begun back in Dean’s car earlier in the day.

            Fingertips teased just beneath Cas’s shirt, tracing patterns over the bare skin and eliciting shivers that Cas wished he did a better job of hiding.

            “So glad I had the balls to make this happen,” Dean mumbled, letting his lips slide to kiss at the corner of Cas’s mouth, then cross his jaw, down his neck…

            “Me too…” Cas breathed in response, instinct telling him to tilt his head back as Dean sucked at a spot just above his collar and leaving a mark that Cas would find in the morning. “I would have been too afraid to say anything…”

            Dean chuckled, lips still pressed to Cas’s skin. “I know you were. That’s why I had to take it into my own hands.” He rose back up to recapture Cas’s lips, and let his hand explore a little further under Cas’s shirt, brushing over Cas’s ribs and driving the boy crazy.

            Dean had such an unreal effect on Cas.

            Perfect Castiel, never getting into trouble (except where Michael was concerned), straight As, perfect attendance, diligently attending church services on _most_ Sundays…

            And there he was, Dean Winchester pressed on top of him in bed as the clock neared two A.M., sneaking around and trying to be quiet so nobody knew he was in there.

            But Dean drove Cas absolutely crazy, and it became more and more difficult to hold onto the morals that had been so tightly instilled in him since childhood.

            Cas tentatively let his hands drop down over Dean’s shoulders, sliding down his sides to feel warm skin through the soft fabric of the boy’s t-shirt.

            Cas didn’t think he could break the kiss even if he wanted; Dean’s lips that he had spent so much time just _staring,_ tasting better then he ever would have imagined, tongue sliding over his bottom lip, warm and perfect.

            Cas felt warm all over, was sure his cheeks were flushed bright red, and Dean could see easily with the light still on. He was sure that Dean knew exactly what was going on through Cas’s mind at the moment.

            Dean’s hands were big and warm, still sliding up and down Cas’s sides, coming to rest once more on the hem of Cas’s pants, fingers brushing just below the elastic as he rolled his hips against Cas’s.

            Cas’s stomach dipped, his nerves screamed a hundred things at him and he gasped, pulling away from the kiss with quick, jerking movement, Dean’s name spilling from his lips.

            “D-Dean!” He stammered, feeling flustered and stupid for letting his cravings get the better of him, even for a little bit. “We-we talked about this!”

            Dean’s expression was sheepish as he trailed his gaze reluctantly from Cas’s pink lips to meet his eyes.

            “I know, I was just—“

            “You promised you wouldn’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.”

            “You’re right, you’re right, I’m sorry.” Dean sighed, rolling off of Cas to lie beside him. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, just got caught up in the moment…”

            Cas couldn’t really fault Dean for that, as he had been doing exactly the same thing. But the purity ring he had worn since his Freshman year felt tight around his ring finger, and he knew better than to get _too_ caught up in anything.

            “It’s fine, I’m not angry, just please respect that I have boundaries.”

            Dean looked perturbed for a moment, as though he wanted to say something, but whatever it was he didn’t vocalize it.

            “I do, I do. Just gonna take some getting used to, you know. But I swear I won’t push you.”

            “Good.” Cas replied, his voice a little lighter as he reached for the bedside table to shut the lamp off.

            They remained quiet in the dark for a few moments, wrapped up in each other’s arms, legs tangled together before Cas spoke.

            “Are you going to stay the night?”

            “Is that alright?”

            They had never spent the night together, and the notion of falling asleep as he was at that moment was almost too enticing to turn down.

            “But Michael will know.”

            “Naw…My car’s parked just a little bit down the street. I’ll just wake up early and crawl through your window again, then we can meet up at school.”

            It was a pretty risky plan, all things considered, but Cas just couldn’t say no. Dean’s arms were warm and his breath ruffled Cas’s hair each time he exhaled and Cas loved every moment of it.

            He removed his glasses, replacing them on his table and turned back to bury his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, sighing contentedly.

            Cas was tired and half of him wanted badly to sleep, and the other half just wanted to talk to Dean about everything, ask him all the questions that buzzed around in his mind everyday, kiss his lips, his cheeks, his eyelids…

            “Dean, can you promise me something?”

            “Hm?” By the tone in Dean’s voice, Cas thought he might have nearly been asleep and he felt a little bad, but continued on.

            “If this lasts…if we stay together and all of this works out…can you promise to take me away from here someday?”

            Dean didn’t answer at first, and Cas could almost feel the frown radiating from his face, even if he couldn’t see it.

            “I don’t mean today, or next week, or even a year from now, I just mean…eventually. We could leave here together and go to California or something.

            “California, huh?” Dean said, and Cas was relieved to hear a smile in his words. “I’ll tell you what,” He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Cas’s head. “We make this work for as long as we need it to and I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

            Cas smiled against Dean’s neck, nuzzling closer to him and squeezing his arms tight around the blonde’s form.

            He fell asleep easily after that, worries about school and Michael and everything else swept miles away by Dean’s words in his ear, promising a life that could be so far away from everything they wished to escape.


	8. I Can't Get No (Satisfaction)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are finally beginning to get some alone time together since the start of their relationship.

**I Can’t Get No (Satisfaction)**

_And I’m tryin’ to make some boy, who tells me baby better come back next week,_

_Cause you see, I’m on a losing streak_

“Cas…” The name tasted so good rolling off of Dean’s tongue like that.

Cas wasn’t there to respond, and Dean’s imagination could only do so much when put up against the real thing, but the image of the other boy splayed out beneath him, open and needy and begging, was enough to satisfy Dean’s cravings for the moment.

It had barely been a week since the start of their relationship and Dean was already desperate to know what Cas was going to feel like. He wanted to touch him, to taste him, to run his hands over every inch of that boy’s body and make Cas feel as good as Dean knew he could make it.

But for now, Dean would wait. Cas was worth waiting for (though Dean tried his best not to dwell too much on how long that wait would be).

Dean’s fingers were wrapped around his cock, stroking over its length as sweat began to bead on his brow.

He could almost imagine what it would feel like to have Cas’s hand replace his own, his pink lips stretched around Dean’s cock, or the feeling of sinking into that tight ass, watching the other squirm and moan as Dean filled him up.

It was hard to keep quiet, though, at the thought of Cas moaning Dean’s name, begging for what Dean wanted so badly to give him—

Dean actually jumped when his phone went off, startling him violently from the lewd daydream.

He normally would have ignored the call, but when he saw the name that was displayed on his phone’s illuminated screen, a smirk pulled at his lips and he answered with his free hand.

“Hey, babe. I was just thinkin’ about you.”

“Oh…You were?” Dean could hear the smile in Cas’s words. “I was thinking about you, too.”

“Yeah? What about?”

“Well, I was speaking with Balthazar earlier today, and he told me that you and I are welcome to hang out at his apartment anytime we’d like. It might be nice, because we wouldn’t have to worry about Michael being around, so perhaps we could do some of your tutoring there a few days a week?”

Dean grinned, though he knew that he and Cas both had very different ideas about what that kind of alone time might entail.

“Yeah? I’m down for anything that gets us away from your brothers.”

“Yes…are you alright? You sound out of breath. Were you jogging or something?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Oh…well…are you busy? Would you like me to call you back later?”

“No, I’m not busy, just keep talking.” Dean spoke, biting back a fresh moan as he ran the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock. “What’re you wearing?” He was impressed at his own ability to keep a straight face at the question.

There was a distinct note of bewilderment in Cas’s voice when he replied, and Dean couldn’t help but endear himself to Cas; it was startlingly adorable how dense he could be sometimes.

“An old Pink Floyd shirt and flannel pants. Why? Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Dude, I’m great right now.” This time Dean made no effort to hold back the sound that escaped from his lips. He wanted Cas to hear his voice, to know what he sounded like all strung out like he was, to know exactly what Dean meant when he had said he was thinking about Cas.

“Dean I don’t understand what—“ Cas suddenly cut off, a gasp catching in the back of his throat.

Bingo.

“Dean!” Cas hissed, his voice hushed. “Dean are you—are you _masturbating_?”

Dean didn’t have to be there to know exactly how Cas was reacting at the moment: he’d be sitting up in his bed, face flushed but set, caught between disapproval and the image of Dean that he had probably formed in his mind at that point.

“Yeah…told you I was thinkin’ about you. You could be doing it too, you know.”

“Dean, I do not touch myself, you know that!”

“Yeah, and I dunno how you manage. But it would do you some good, get you to unwind a little bit.” Just to enunciate his point, Dean breathed Cas’s name into the phone as he arched up against his own touch.

He was trying his best at the moment to hold back, to delay his own gratification for a little bit, but it was difficult when he had Cas talking in his ear at the moment, even if he wasn’t exactly saying anything very sexy.

When Cas spoke again his voice seemed a bit unsteady, and Dean felt a great swell of pride knowing that it was most likely his doing. “No, Dean, I am not going to do that!”

He felt a bit sorry that Cas had been raised not to touch himself—it seemed incredible that Cas had made it to seventeen and had only ever jerked-off a few times experimentally when he had been younger.

“Alright, I’m not gonna make you do something you don’t want to. But are you gonna stay on the line with me?”

Cas was silent for a moment, and Dean could picture the expression on his face, it would be the same one he always wore when they were making out, and things began to get just a bit too heated: he’d be biting his lip and looking away, knowing that he _wanted_ to keep going, but was probably fighting some deep-set religious morals that he’d been brainwashed to believe since his childhood.

Dean gave another jerk of his hand and breathed heavily into the phone.

“If you’d like me to.” Cas finally answered in a quiet voice.

“Course I want you to. Love hearing your voice. Better than just pretending. You gonna talk to me? Wanna know what I was thinking about before you called?”

“Yes.” Cas answered too quickly, and Dean chuckled in response. “You can tell me if you want.”

“Was thinking about you sucking me off. Bet your mouth is gonna feel so good around my cock—“

“But Dean, I don’t—“

“You don’t have to do anything till you’re ready, babe, but we can talk about it, right? That’s all this is, just talking.”

Dean could almost hear Cas’s internal struggle. “Yes, we can…we can talk about it.”

“Good, cause I think I like having you on the phone with me like this.” Dean quickened the pace of his hand along the length of his cock, leaning his head back against his pillow as his eyes fluttered shut. “You like listening? Like the way I say your name?” His words were breathy and labored by then, and Dean could feel the buildup crawling dangerously close to release, his body practically begging him to finish. He curled his toes, slowing down again with an effort that was almost tortuous.

“Uh, yes, Dean, you sound—you sound good—“ Cas stammered, clearly thrown out of his element.

“I hope I sound more than good. Fuck, Cas. I’m getting so close.”

“You’re getting close? What do you—o-oh! You mean you’re going to—oh gosh—“

Dean had almost completely halted his movements, the need growing inside him, fighting against his willpower to wait just a little bit longer. “Cas,” he all but moaned the other boy’s name. “Are you hard for me right now?”

“A-am I—am I what? Dean—don’t ask me questions like that!”

But Dean just smirked, knowing the answer due to Cas’s evasive response. He rewarded himself with a few slow strokes down his cock. “Bet you are. God, I bet you look so amazing right now. Just thinking about you is making me crazy. I’m gonna wait till you’re ready, and then I’ll make you feel so good, Cas. Gonna have you begging for it, you just wait. I’ll treat you like you wanna be treated, swallow you down. Bet your cock is going to taste so good.” God, he wished he could see Cas now, his cheeks probably flushed bright red, lying in his bed, trying so hard to resist touching himself. “You wanna hear me come?” Dean couldn’t wait much longer, not with Cas on the line with him.

“Dean—I don’t—I don’t know—alright, I—y-yes, I…I’d like to listen.”

“Want—want to listen to what?” Dean had picked his pace back up again. He was just barely holding back, but he wanted to hear Cas say it.

“I…I want to listen to you come.”

Dean gladly obliged Cas’s request. He wished he could have cried out, yelled and moaned as he came, but the last thing he needed was for Sam or his father to hear him.

So Dean choked back his words, stammering Cas’s name out as quiet as he could. He arched his back, riding out his orgasm and making sure that Cas knew exactly how good he was feeling.

Dean let his hand fall to the side when he was finished, trying to catch his breath as the last dregs of his orgasm faded away.

“Shit, Cas,” he said with a weak laugh.

There was a pause on the other line before Cas’s voice, a little shaky and nervous, piped up. “I-I can’t believe that I just stayed on the phone with you while you did that.”

“Well,” Dean said, still breathing hard. “I’m damn glad you did.” He sighed, his lips curving at the corners. It felt good to be getting somewhere with Cas.  “Don’t be embarrassed. You sounded great.” Dean could almost hear the other boy blushing on the other line.

“That’s easy for you to say…”

“You haven’t got a thing to be embarrassed about around me…”

Dean closed his eyes, smiling warmly at the lulling sound of Cas’s voice through the phone’s speaker.

They stayed on the phone much later than they should have on a school night. Dean wasn’t so concerned about that, but he knew that Cas would be. It was just too much of a comfort to talk like that, voices steadily growing lazier until they finally had to admit defeat, hanging up to avoid the risk of falling asleep during the call.

It worried Dean, just a little bit, as he began to fall into a steady doze, that he was getting very attached to Castiel at an almost alarming rate. One minute he could hardly accept that he might have romantic feelings towards another boy, and the next he wondered how he had lived for so long never tasting those lips. He certainly felt more attached than any of his precious relationships.

But Dean pushed his commitment issues aside, letting himself drift into happy dreams where Cas’s face was unspoiled by the bruises and worry.

 

It was about a week after their phone conversation, and Dean and Cas weren’t getting much of the studying done that they were supposed to be doing.

Dean, being a very hormonal teenage boy only a few short weeks into his new relationship, found it very difficult to keep focus on schoolwork with those piercing blue eyes staring right through him every chance they got.

Cas would constantly try to get Dean to refocus on his schoolwork, but Dean would pull Cas away from the books with hands on his waist and kisses along his neck, drawing soft laughter from the boy’s chapped lips.

It had turned into a sort of game every time they were up in Cas’s room.

Dean loved the way Cas’s voice would muffle against his kiss, laughter fading to a hum as his lips remained curled in a smile the entire time.

Dean had never seen so many smiles on Castiel’s face before. He had always seemed so stoic to Dean before they had met, but Dean felt like he had changed something in the other boy. Or at least made him a little happier.

At any rate, he had never seen someone’s face light up as quickly as Cas’s did whenever Dean graced kisses over his skin when the boy wasn’t expecting it.

“Dean,” Cas said with a chuckle as Dean pushed the schoolwork off of Cas’s lap so he couldn’t work on it. “You have a paper to write.”

“Papers can wait. I’ve got better ideas.”

Cas laughed louder as Dean pushed him back against the bed, assaulting his neck with soft kisses, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh too at the way Cas squirmed playfully under him, his glasses hanging halfway off of his face.

“I’m supposed to be tutoring you. Mrs. Harvalle is going to—“

But Cas’s sentence remained unfinished.

Dean had never been so happy that he was conditioned to hear the sound of footsteps coming down a hallway like that.

He was off of Cas in a second, planting himself firmly on the floor, opening up his Lit book just as the door opened and Michael stepped in.

Did he ever knock?

“Castiel.” The man barked, his eyes narrowing on his little brother who seemed to shrink into himself a little bit. “How many times have I told you already today that it’s your week to do the dishes?”

“Uh…”

“They are _piled_ up in the sink. I can’t believe how lazy you are. Even Gabriel did his chores when he lived here.”

“Gabriel wasn’t in all AP classes,” Cas mumbled irritably.

“Don’t even try to use your schoolwork as an excuse.” Michael’s eyes scanned around the room, and Dean had an uneasy feeling that he knew they had hardly done any work. “I know you’re plenty capable of getting your work done and doing a few chores during the week. I don’t ask for much.”

“Michael, do you _have_ to do this when I have friends over?”

“Castiel, if you are being punished do you think I am going to give you the privilege of being scolded on your own time? This is your own fault. After Dean goes home tonight, that’s it for the week. You’re grounded.”

“ _What?_ ” Dean and Cas both shouted at the same time. Michael pursed his lips, his eyes flickering to Dean for a moment before focusing back on Cas.

“You heard me, Castiel. You have been way out of line lately, you never listen anymore—“

“Michael! All I did was forget about some dishes!”

“After I reminded you several times! If that won’t get it through your head, then perhaps a grounding will.”

“Michael!”

“Don’t argue with me, Castiel, unless you want to be in even more trouble.”

Cas looked like he was about two seconds away from some nasty retort, but out of some miracle, he kept his mouth shut.

Michael hovered for another moment, probably waiting to see if Cas was going to argue before he swept out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Cas only waited until he heard Michael disappear down the stairs before bursting into an angry rant.

“Can you believe him? He thinks I’m completely out of control! Like I’m going to drop out of school and start doing drugs because I didn’t do a few dishes.” Cas’s cheeks were flushed with anger, and Dean quickly climbed back onto the bed to calm him, but Cas wasn’t having any of that.

He waved Dean away, standing up to pace. “He’s always like this! Every little thing I do, he just turns it into some big… _thing_! As though everyone else in the family is so perfect!”

Dean watched Cas’s progress around the room. He had rarely ever seen him so angry. Cas was normally pretty calm.

Dean knew he had to do something to make the boy feel better, and it didn’t take long before an idea occurred to him.

Dean stood up, walking over to the record player. Cas didn’t seem to be paying much attention to him, as he was still going on about Michael, gesturing angrily into the air.

Dean picked up a small pile of records he had brought with him that day. They were old, saved from garage sales and hand-me-downs that he’d had as a child before his dad broke their turntable.

He figured Cas probably owned most of them anyway, but it didn’t hurt to bring them along, just in case.

Dean was going to have to bite back a bit of his pride with this, but if it was able to calm Cas down just a little bit, it would be worth it.

Cas had stopped complaining just as Dean was setting the record on the turntable, turning to stare at him, his expression caught somewhere between quizzical and angry.

“What are you doing?” He snapped, as Dean dropped the needle on the record and the soft piano chords started up, creeping through the speakers.

Dean turned to Cas, an anxious smile on his lips as he began to sing softly, his voice barely audible under the sound of the record.

            “ _It’s a little bit funny, this feeling inside_ ,”

            Cas’s angry expression immediately melted off his face, his eyes widening in surprise as Dean stepped closer to him.

            “ _I’m not one of those who can easily hide. I don’t have much money, but boy if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live…_ ” Dean’s face was hot with embarrassment. He had some insecurities with singing to other people to begin with, and after all the time he spent teasing Cas about his love for Elton John, it felt ridiculous to be standing there, knowing all the lyrics. He tried to ignore those feelings and instead focused on making Cas feel better.

            His arms wound around Cas’s waist, pulling the other boy close and leaning in, his lips brushing against Cas’s ear as he continued to sing.

            “ _If I was sculptor…but then again, no…Or a man who makes potions in a, traveling show…I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. My gift is my song and, this one’s for you._ ”

            He could hear Cas’s breathing begin to slow, his body relaxing as Dean’s voice harmonized with Elton’s, the music swelling through the room.

            “ _And you can tell everybody, that this is your song…It may be quite simple but, now that it’s done…I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind…_ ”

            He pulled back enough to look down at Cas who was staring up at him, his eyes still wide, lips parted and Dean wished so badly that he knew what the other boy was thinking.

            “ _That I put down in words…how wonderful, life is, now you’re in the world.._.”

            “Dean…”

            “You know, we never got to share a real dance at Homecoming.” Dean murmured, sliding one of his hands from Cas’s waist to curl into his fingers as he began to sway to the music.

            “That’s because I have two left feet.”

            “I don’t mind.”

            The thoughts that had been bubbling up in his mind over the last two weeks were surfacing again. The ones where he had only known Cas since the start of the semester, only been dating him for two short weeks, and yet there Dean was, singing Elton fucking John to the boy while dancing in the middle of his bedroom.

            A few months ago Dean would have died of humiliation at the notion that he could ever be so sappy, acting like some stranger out of a bad romance novel.

            But it was difficult to care about that when Cas’s eyes shined up at him, as though Cas thought he truly was some sort of godsend.

            Dean knew he was anything but that.

 

_So excuse me forgetting but these things I do_   
_You see I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_   
_Anyway the thing is what I really mean_   
_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen_

            The music continued on and they were quiet for a bit, bodies pressed together, Cas’s breathing still a bit shallow after how angry he had been.

            Dean was grateful, after the song drifted into the next one and they broke apart, returning quietly to actually attempt to do some studying, that Cas never teased Dean or said anything to him about the song. They just left the whole thing unspoken.

            Cas didn’t seem angry anymore, though he was very quiet and had a pensive look on his face all night. His hand never left Dean’s until he had to go home.

 

            The week that followed felt different. It wasn’t bad different, and Dean couldn’t exactly put his finger on what had happened. The boys still snuck around the school, stealing kisses in private from each other whenever they could like usual.

            Maybe it was Cas who was different. Dean could have just been imagining things, but he felt as though after that evening so much of Cas’s initial shyness about the relationship had melted away.

            Suddenly he was dragging Dean off during lunch to hide out in the boy’s bathroom, pressing Dean up against the wall with a boldness that Dean didn’t know he had in him, their lips never parting until the bell rang.

            At first Dean thought it was because he was grounded; Cas was probably trying to get as much time in with Dean as he could during school hours, since wasn’t allowed to see any of his friends, but it wasn’t two days after Cas had been grounded that they were already sneaking out to see each other.

            Dean, of course, had already snuck over to Cas’s house a few times late at night, but he was surprised when even Cas agreed to sneak out, meeting Dean down the street so they could drive around in his car, listening to music and finally pulling over when they decided they couldn’t resist the temptation of each other’s lips for much longer.

            But it was late in the week when Cas really surprised him.

            They were up in Cas’s room, ignoring the clock that warned them that it was far past midnight and they both had school in the morning.

            But really, what other choice did they have? After all, Dean couldn’t come over when everyone else was awake or they would risk getting into trouble.

            The only light on was the dull lamp that sat on Cas’s bedside table as the two boys lay on Cas’s bed, bodies pressed together, their lips locked as though they had been made to fit together.

            It was almost torture, being with Cas like that and knowing that in a little bit he would have to head back home, flustered and unsatisfied, but it was just too hard to turn down Cas’s mouth. His kiss was the best Dean had ever tasted.

            Cas was planted in Dean’s lap, leaning down into the kiss while Dean’s hands slid down the boy’s waist, resting carefully on his hips.

            Cas seemed completely shut off to his surroundings, completely lost Dean’s touch and Dean barely even paid attention to what he was doing as his hands snaked down over the other’s ass, pulling the other boy down closer.

            Cas started at the motion, and Dean broke the kiss in an instant, dropping his hands away and looking apologetic.

            “Sorry, Cas, didn’t mean—“

            But Cas, to Dean’s surprise, didn’t let the boy finish his thought before jumping right back into the kiss.

            Dean, however, pulled back again, placing a hand on Cas’s shoulder to hold him back.

            Cas furrowed his brow, looking irritated at Dean’s sudden hesitance.

            “Cas, I-I’m alright waiting for you to feel ready, but if we keep goin’ like this it’s going to drive me crazy. Maybe we’d better call it a night.” Any other time Dean would have laughed at how much Cas seemed to have him wrapped around his finger. Dean would have never been the one turning down a little bit of action.

            Cas just watched him for a moment longer before pushing into the kiss once more as though nothing had been said.

            “Cas!” Dean stammered, moving his head away. “I’m serious!”

            “So am I.” Cas murmured, dropping his kisses along Dean’s jaw and down his neck.

            Dean’s skin tingled wherever Cas’s lips touched him, and he leaned his head back, despite knowing that this wasn’t going to help at all.

            “Cas, c’mon…you tryin’ to make me lose it?”

            “What do you want, Dean?”

            Dean’s eyes had been closed while relished in Cas’s touch, but they shot open at the teen’s words.

            “Wait…what?”

            Cas pulled away, sitting back on Dean’s lap and staring down at him. “What…what do you want?”

            “Cas, wait, you mean you want to, uh…”

            Cas cheeks flushed a bit and he just continued to stare.

            “Are you…are you sure? I don’t want you doin’ anything because you think you need to.”

            “I want to.” Cas replied softly.

            Well, that sounded pretty sure to Dean, and he wasn’t going to argue when Cas was suddenly so eager.

            But Dean found himself at a bit of a loss for words. Normally hearing the phrase ‘What do you want?’ from someone would send Dean’s mind reeling into about a hundred different scenarios, each one better than the last, but when the words came from Cas, Dean’s mind just fizzled.

            Cas had never so much as kissed anyone before Dean had come along, and now they were finally considering getting into some action Dean had no idea what to do.

            He didn’t want to push Cas, or make him feel like he had some sort of obligation.

            “Uh, well,” Dean stammered, faltering under Cas’s hard gaze. The other issue was that when most people asked a question like that, it was supposed to be something sexy, a sort of treat, but Dean knew too well that Cas honestly just…didn’t know what to do. And Dean couldn’t exactly talk dirty to him, not yet, at least. He just sort of had to…be blunt about it.

            Dean cleared his throat. “Well, you could uh, you could give me a blow job.” His face burned, feeling stupid for saying it like that.

            And the blank stare Cas was giving him didn’t help much, either.

            “You…you do know what a blow job is, right, Cas?” Dean asked helplessly.

            “No, I’m not familiar…”

            God, this was going to be a long, awkward road. “Jesus, Cas, you’ve never even watched a porno before? Alright, it’s when you…you know…you use your mouth.”

            Cas stared for a short moment longer before understanding dawned on his face, his mouth forming an ‘oh’ as he grasped Dean’s meaning.

            “Yeah…If you don’t want to—“

            But Cas was already leaning over Dean again, halting Dean’s words with a sloppy kiss that snaked down along his neck after a moment.

            Cas was still clumsy, but he had gotten quite a bit better at kissing through Dean’s direction.

            Their bodies were now pressed together again, and Dean could feel some of his worries and embarrassment melt away. There would have to be a lot of learning between them, but so what? Everyone started somewhere. It was kind of nice to think that Cas was starting with Dean. Also, Dean’s pants were starting to feel pretty tight, and he thought that might have attributed to his change in emotions.

            Cas pulled his lips off of Dean’s neck and crawled away, sliding of off the bed to settle on his knees. Dean moved toward him, letting his legs drape over the edge of the bed.

            Dean could tell that a lot of the boldness that Cas had been feeling earlier was quickly dissipating in light of the boy’s inexperience.

            He stared down at Cas who was looking beautiful, despite the nervous, unsure expression on his face.

            “Cas,” He spoke softly, running fingers through the boy’s soft hair. “We’ll just go slow. Don’t push yourself past your comfort zone, alright? I’ll walk you through whatever you need me to.”

            Cas nodded, looking a little more relaxed from Dean’s words, and moved to undo the button on Dean’s pants.

            And Dean was suddenly forced into the reality of what Cas was about to do, allowing the excitement to build in his chest. All those daydreams, all those times he had spent imagining what this would be like…

            “It’s alright, babe,” Dean mumbled to Cas, still playing with the boy’s hair. “You’ll do fine.”

            Cas just nodded again, pushing Dean’s pants and underwear down as much as he could with how he was sitting.

            Cas’s cheeks, already a bit red from all the kissing they had been doing, flushed deeper at the sight of Dean’s cock, and even Dean felt a little embarrassed, which was odd because he was never hesitant when it came to showing off what was in his pants.

            But this was Cas, and everything was just so different with him, so much more intense.

            Cas looked as though he was trying to pull himself together, and Dean suddenly realized that giving him direction might be a bit difficult. He wished that Cas jerked off once in a while; he’d at least know what would feel good, then.

            He’d never actually had to teach someone how to do this sort of thing, and the notion caused all kinds of insecurities to bubble up, making him feel—

            Dean was barely able to bite back the surprised gasp that left his lips as Cas’s fingers wrapped around his cock, and he quickly turned to stare back down at Cas who was looking right back up at him, his expression slowly turning from nervous to calculating.

            “Alright,” Dean breathed, trying to stay composed but it was hard with those blue eyes staring into him. “You can just, you know….uh…”

            Cas watched Dean for a moment longer before he seemed to know what Dean was about to say (it wasn’t hard to figure out), ducking down to take Dean into his mouth.

            Dean moaned, trying to stifle the sound as best as he could at the warm, wet feeling of Cas’s mouth around his cock. He had imagined it so many times, played this out in his head more than he could count, but as usual, imagination had nothing on reality.

            “Cas,” He panted, using his hand to gently guide Cas’s head down, his eyes locked on how amazing the boy’s perfect mouth looked around his cock like that.

            Fuck, he didn’t care if Cas knew what he was doing or not, this felt damn good either way, and he would only get better with experience—

            “C-Cas!” Dean suddenly snapped, recoiling and trying to squirm away from the other without pushing the boy off. “Y-you’re doing great just—watch the teeth—“

            Okay, maybe he cared a little bit if Cas knew what he was doing.

            Cas pulled back, staring apologetically up at Dean. “I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean—“

            “I-It’s fine Cas, you don’t have to stop.” Dean said quickly, fidgeting at the sudden loss of friction.

            Cas stopped whatever he was going to say next, only watching Dean for a moment longer before he returned to his task, pulling a sigh from Dean’s lips.

            “Cas, you look so good right now…” Dean moaned quietly, trying to give Cas a boost of confidence so he would feel less nervous, though it certainly wasn’t a lie. He was trying so hard to commit the image of Cas like that to memory, his glasses sliding to the edge of his nose as he moved along with Dean’s guidance. And Dean couldn’t exactly ignore the fact that Cas seemed to be enjoying himself, too, squirming where he sat.

            Dean felt his stomach dip at the thought that Cas was getting turned on by this, and his breathing increased a little bit.

            Cas seemed to be growing more eager, the pace of his movements in increasing, and he pushed his head down further, trying to take more of Dean into his mouth.

            “Easy, tiger,” Dean chuckled, gasping for air and guiding Cas back a little bit, not wanting the boy to push himself too far. He nearly melted at the way Cas looked up at him.

            If he was being honest, Cas was clumsy and there was little rhythm to the way he moved, his inexperience obvious, but Dean had been so riled up from the time they had been together, forced to keep their hands to themselves that it didn’t really matter to him. Anything would have felt good at that point.

            Dean could feel the need to come building in his stomach, heat balling up and begging for release. It was so hard to stop himself from jerking his hips up, desperate to feel more of Cas’s mouth around him, but that wouldn’t be a good idea right now.

            “Cas,” he said, trying to be as quiet as he could. But he wanted Cas to hear him, to know just what he was able to do to Dean. He couldn’t wait for a chance to do this without the worry of Cas’s brothers lingering over their heads.

            Cas hummed in response to the sound of his name, the vibrations from his voice nearly pushing Dean over the edge. The fingers on his free hand curled in the bed sheets, biting back all the moans that threatened to be far too loud.

            “Cas, I’m getting close—shit—“ he whispered in a stuttering voice, watching as Cas’s head bobbed up and down, needing less guidance from Dean than he had at the start.

            Dean had given Cas warning only a few moments soon enough, because a moment later he was using every bit of willpower he had in him to keep his hips still and his voice quiet as he came hard into Cas’s mouth, tugging lightly on the boy’s thick hair while he rode out his orgasm.

            And then Cas reeled back, coughing and sputtering and gasping for air as he clearly had been caught off guard, despite Dean’s warning.

            “Cas…” Dean breathed, trying to catch his breath as he came down from his orgasm and sound sympathetic at the same time.

            He quickly tugged his pants back up, and slid off the bed, rubbing a comforting hand over Cas’s back.

            He felt bad, but it was so hard not to stare at the way Cas looked as he finally stopped coughing, raising those blue eyes up to stare back at Dean.

            His cheeks were deep red, lips wet and pink and Dean reached out to wipe a bit of his come from the corner of Cas’s mouth.

            So it hadn’t been the best blow job he had ever had, but it was _Cas_ and there was certainly plenty of time for learning and teaching. They had gotten over this first hurdle, and Dean was confident that it would just be down hill from there.

            “You did great,” Dean crooned, leaning in for a much needed kiss. He could taste a trace of himself lingering on Cas’s lips and it made him shudder.

            He let his hand trail lazily down Cas’s side, resting against his hip.

            “Ready for me to return the favor?” He asked into the kiss.

            But Cas, to Dean’s dismay, pulled away, turning his head so Dean couldn’t kiss him.

            Dean faltered. “Cas? What’s wrong?”

            “Nothing is wrong, I just…you don’t need to return the favor.”

            “It’s not cause I need to, Cas, I want to.”

            “No, I mean…I don’t want you to.”

            Dean let his hand slide off of Cas’s hip and stared at the boy. Cas didn’t want Dean to touch him? Did Dean not turn him on? It certainly seemed like he had.

            Or maybe he had done something wrong? Did he upset Cas? Did he make him uncomfortable?

            He watched Cas.

            The boy’s face was still flushed and while Dean tried not to let his eyes wander too much, it was impossible not to notice the obvious bulge in Cas’s pants. So what was the problem?

            “Cas? What…what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?”

            “Dean, no…of course you didn’t. It’s just….I mean, it isn’t as though I don’t _want_ to—I-I mean—I just—I _shouldn’t_.”

            Cas didn’t have to elaborate anymore for Dean to understand what he was getting at.

            “Cas…” he said sympathetically, moving closer so he could tilt Cas’s head up by his chin. “Don’t beat yourself up over this stuff…there’s nothing wrong with it, and I’m sorry you’ve been forced to think that your whole life. I want to make you feel good like you did for me.”

            Cas just shook his head again. “I can’t.”

            Dean could practically see Cas working out in his mind a million reasons why it was okay for him to go down on Dean but not receive anything in return. He knew that was how Cas was, too. He always seemed to be finding weird ways to work around his religion, and sometimes Dean wished Cas would just give up on all that.

            But faith was important to Cas, even if Dean didn’t understand it. If Cas could at least give himself some leeway, though…understand that not all of this stuff was so bad…

            Dean sighed. “I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want me to. But I wish I could do something for you.”

            Cas’s worried expression finally softened at Dean’s words. “Making you happy is enough for me. Let’s go to bed. We still have school in the morning.

            Dean watched as Cas got up, climbing back into bed and a minute later he was right next to him, pulling the boy’s back to his chest and burying his face in Cas’s dark hair.

            He supposed beating himself up over something that Castiel chose of his own will was pretty pointless, too, but he just wished he could do something back.

            But they had time, and Dean promised Cas that he would wait as long as he had to. Cas just needed time to grow more comfortable with the idea, and when he did, Dean would show him just how great it could be.

 

            Cas could be very persistent. He had been bugging Dean about this since they had first begun to hang out, and now that they were nearing a month into their relationship, and things had steadily been getting less and less innocent, Dean felt as though he couldn’t keep turning Cas down.

            The air was cold now that November was midway through, and while Cas being grounded to his room for a week had been grueling, it was now far behind them.

            It was a chilly Friday afternoon, the weekend shining before them, with little homework to be able to distract them from each other, but Dean knew they would have to get over this one hurdle before he could relax.

            He parked the Impala in his driveway, staring at his house that looked far more ransacked than it had ever appeared to him before. The paint was peeling all over the siding, one of the shutters was missing, the lawn was covered in weeds…Not that the place was unlivable, far from, it was just…lacking in a lot of the care that usually made a house a home.

            There was one good thing, though and that was the fact that there was no sign of his dad’s car in the driveway. He had probably already started the endless pounding of drinks that would last well through the entire weekend, and was most likely going to be out late that night.

            That was one less thing to worry about, at least.

            Dean glanced at Cas who smiled at him comfortingly from the passenger side of the car.

            “Alright,” Dean said in a resigned voice. “Let‘s get this over with.” They both slid out of the car, and as soon as he was close enough, Cas reached over to take Dean’s hand.

            “Dean,” he spoke, pausing before walking up to the door. “This is a silly thing for you to be nervous about. I don’t care what your house is like. I’m not going to think of you any different. I just want to see your room, and meet Sam.”

            Dean felt a little better, but his nerves still twisted in his stomach. It would have been easier if Cas’s home wasn’t so…completely different.

            “I know that, it’s just…” He stared hopelessly at the house. “Let’s just head in.”

            Everything was standing out to Dean as they walked into the kitchen through the garage. The dirty tiles in the kitchen, the pile of beer cans in the sink, the peeling and outdated wallpaper, the dent in the wall where Dean had nearly made a hole one night when he fought with his dad…

            He just wanted to get Cas through the house as quickly as possible. He could see the boy’s eyes wandering around, trying to take everything in as Dean tugged on his hand, walking quickly towards the staircase that creaked every other step.

            Dean hated that house with every fiber of his being. The only thing that made it a home was that Sam’s room was right across the hall from his. Nothing else there gave him comfort.

            They reached the narrow hallway at the top of the stairs and Dean flashed Cas a small smile before he knocked on one of the doors.

            “Sammy? You home?”

            There was shuffling from the other side and a moment later the door opened, revealing the only person that had ever really mattered in Dean’s life before Cas came along.

            Sam was scrawny and a bit short, but Dean had been short at that age, too, and he was confident that Sam would shoot up in a few years’ time.

            “What’s up, Dean? D’you…” He began, but trailed off, his eyes moving past Dean to rest on Cas. He looked confused for a moment before his expression switched to mild surprise.

            “Dean, is this Cas?” Sam asked excitedly.

            “Yup.”

            “Hello, Sam,” Cas greeted with a small smile as Sam reached out to take the teen’s hand.

            “Oh my God, I’ve heard so much about you from Dean. I’ve been telling him to bring you around for ages so I could meet you.”

            Cas glanced at Dean who looked down at his feet sheepishly.

            “I’m glad to hear he talks about me at home. Positive things, I hope?”

            “Mostly.” Sam said with a laugh. “Don’t know that I ever expected to see Dean dating a guy, but when it was you I wasn’t that surprised. He’d never shut up about you even before you guys were dating.”

            “Alright, that’s enough talking for now. _Jesus_.” Dean snapped, shooing Sam into his room and ignoring the look he got from Cas for his language.

            “It was nice to meet you, Sam,” Cas managed to get out before Dean shoved him across the hall to his own bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

            Maybe it was a bit dumb to be so embarrassed around Cas anymore, but he was still a bit shy over how much he talked about the other boy while he was at home. He hadn’t even _noticed_ that he did it that much.

            But when he turned to look, Cas was smiling warmly at him. Dean felt a little better.

            “Well…this is it,” he said with a shrug and a half-hearted gesture at the room.

            The room was pretty clean, much better than Cas’s looked, at least. It was small, with a twin bed in the center, very little furniture, and posters that littered the walls. A few of them featured musicians, but most of them depicted a lot of scantily clad women in various objectifying poses.

            Cas’s eyes lingered uncomfortably on the posters, and Dean pulled him in close. “What were you expecting? A bunch of naked dudes on my wall like in your room?”

            “What?” Cas snapped, immediately tearing his eyes away from the posters to stare incredulously at Dean. “I have two posers on my wall!”

            “Yeah. And one of them is a shirtless dude.”

            “It’s Jim Morrison!”

            “Doesn’t make him any less naked. It’s alright, I know you’ve got the hots for him, I’ll try not to get too jealous as long as you light _my_ fire.”

            Dean knew the joke was cheesy, but Cas smiled anyway.

            “He was my first crush.”

            “Really? Damn, Cas, you really do go for the bad-boy image, don’t you?” Dean laughed, leaning in for a kiss. He lingered on Cas’s lips for a moment, wondering now why he had been so nervous. It was Cas, after all.

            Cas didn’t care what his house looked like. Cas cared about Dean, and that was all.

            “Wanna go watch a movie?” Dean asked quietly, breaking the kiss long enough to pose the question.

            “Yes.”

           

            There were very few things that could really distract Dean from _Back to the Future_ , especially when he was showing it to someone for the first time.

            But Cas was one of those few exceptions.

            His lips tasted too good, and his weight pressed against Dean’s as Cas straddled over his lap on the couch was just too much to ignore.

            And Dean had figured out in the past couple of weeks that pinball wasn’t the only thing that Cas learned quickly.

            Dean’s head was leaning against the armrest of the couch, hands on Cas’s waist, teasing under his sweater while Cas pushed Dean’s shirt up with cold hands.

            Looking back on that moment later, Dean always wondered about so many factors that might have changed what had happened.

            Maybe if the television hadn’t been up so loud he would have heard the car pulling into the driveway, or the door to the kitchen open. Maybe if he hadn’t suggested they watch a movie they would have just kept their activates to Dean’s bedroom, rather than out in the open in the living room.

            But that wasn’t what happened.

            The television was loud, they were on the couch, and neither of them were paying any mind to their surroundings until a voice that wasn’t coming from the movie made Dean’s blood run cold under his skin.

            “What the fuck is going on?” The words sounded slurred and inebriated as they boomed through the room, and Dean pulled his lips away from Cas’s just quick enough to see the boy’s shocked expression as he was pulled off of Dean by John Winchester, looking angrier than Dean had ever seen him.


	9. Cat's In The Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John finds out about Dean and Cas, and Cas deals with the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god im trash im so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out, i've been so busy the next few months, but hopefully updates will be a little more regular from here on out
> 
> tw for abuse and homophobia

**Cat’s In The Cradle**

_He learned to walk while I was away,_

_And he was talking before I knew it, and as he grew he said,_

_“I’m gonna be like you, Dad. You know I’m gonna be like you.”_

 

Everything happened so fast at first that it was difficult for Cas to register what was even going on.

            He heard a voice—a gruff, unfamiliar voice—and the next moment he was being torn off of the couch by his shirt collar and tossed effortlessly onto the floor.

            Cas crashed to the ground with a grunt, pushing himself up a moment later. He felt dazed, and it took him a moment to figure out what was going on.

            “What the fuck are you doing, Dean?” Cas heard John growl from where he stood over the couch, his back to Cas. There was a waver in John’s voice when he spoke. He sounded upset.

            “Jesus, Dad, hang on, we were—we were just—“

            “Just what?” John ran a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’—You’re my _son_! You’re supposed to set an example for Sam! Not—fuck, Dean!”

            “Dad, listen—“

            “You’re supposed to make me proud, and you—you’re fuckin’ queer? What the hell?”

            “Dad!” Cas watched Dean move off of the couch, half obscured by John’s form. He had never heard Dean’s voice sound so small before, and it scared Cas. “Just listen to me! I’m not—“

            “I didn’t raise you to be such a disappointment!”

            “Dad…I-I’m sorry—“ His choked helplessly.

            Cas could smell the strong burn of alcohol that clung to John even from where he was on the floor. He slowly got to his feet, petrified but determined to do _something_ to help mediate.

            “Mr. Winchester,” Cas said nervously, reaching a hand out to touch the man’s shoulder. “Dean was just—“

            There was a stinging pain against Cas’s cheek and his glasses flew off before he even noticed John moving. John was well coordinated for someone who was drunk. Cas supposed that alcoholics usually were.

            Cas hit the ground again but much harder this time, the side of his face hot and throbbing where he had been punched, and suddenly Dean’s yells were filling the room.

            “Cas! Dad, leave him alone, he didn’t do anything!”

            Cas heard movement and he could tell that Dean must have moved, but he was searching frantically for his glasses and couldn’t see anything that was going on.

            “Don’t talk to me like that, boy.” There was a warning tone in John’s words that cut through the distress and made Cas’s blood run cold.

            _Don’t let him hurt Dean. Please._

            Dean’s voice faltered again when he spoke next. “Don’t—don’t hurt him, Dad.”

            “What the hell is wrong with you, Dean? I wanted to be proud of you! I wanted Sam to look up to you!”

            “I am setting an example for Sam! This has noting to _do_ with that! I’m just—“

            But the rest of Dean’s sentence was cut off: There was a sound like a punch and Cas could hear Dean fall to the ground just as his hands closed over his glasses.

            He hurriedly crammed them onto his face, and whirled around to face the other two as the room came into clear focus.

            Dean was crumpled on the ground, covering his head, and Cas felt a sick twist in his stomach as he saw John’s boot collide with the boy’s ribs.

            Dean gasped in pain, and John was snarling words that blocked out Cas’s voice.

            “Leave him alone!” He cried as fear shocked through him.

            _Please, please, please let him be okay._

            “Dad, stop!” Dean sounded so broken and scared.

            “Stop?” John’s voice cracked when he yelled, his foot catching Dean right in the stomach. “How do I fix you? How the fuck do I stop you from being such a fucking disappointment?”

            “Dad, please—“ Dean coughed as he was hit again.

            John aimed another kick right to the boy’s jaw, and Cas suddenly realized he had been frozen in his spot, standing there just watching the scene unfold. He felt sick, but he had to do something.

            “Dean!” Cas yelled, not even thinking or considering how much smaller he was than John as he ran at the man. Getting hurt wasn’t what scared Cas—he had taken hits, and he could take more, but seeing Dean on the ground like that terrified Cas more than anything.

            He grabbed John by the arm, managing to pull him away from Dean, at least a little bit.

            “What the hell is wrong with you? He’s your son, stop it! You’re going to kill him, what kind of a father are you?” He yelled desperately.

            He didn’t know what word or phrase or combination had made John freeze up the way he did, but the man turned to stare at Cas.

            There was something like remorse, or maybe just a haze in the John’s eyes due to all of the alcohol that he consumed, but he was giving the boy an odd look. He almost looked close to a breakdown or something.

            For a moment Cas thought that John was going to hit him again, and he flinched, but John didn’t. The man seemed to cave in on himself a little bit, appearing much smaller than he had when he had stormed furiously into the room. He swept past Castiel and out of the living room, not sparing another glance at Dean’s trembling form lying in a heap on the floor.

            Cas vaguely heard the front door open and close somewhere in the next room, but he didn’t care about where John was anymore. Dean was the only thing in the world.

            He rushed to the broken boy, falling to his knees at Dean’s side just as Sam came down the stairs, attracted by the noise.

            “Cas? What’s going—“ Cas wasn’t watching Sam, but he could tell that the boy’s eyes had just lighted on Dean and was quickly piecing together what had happened.

            He had no way of knowing what the damage was; he couldn’t even tell if Dean was conscious or not. His skin was red at bloody from where John had kicked at him, and he looked almost as bad as Cas had after the incident at school.

            He reached a shaking hand out to touch Dean’s hair, trying his best to suppress the need to scream.

            “Cas is Dean—did Dad—oh my God—“

            “Sam,” Cas croaked, surprised that he was even able to find his voice. “Sam, you need to go call an ambulance.”

            “But Dean—“

            “Sam, go! Dean needs help, you need to hurry up!”

            Cas felt bad for yelling at Sam, but he didn’t have it in him to filter his emotions at the moment.

            He turned back to Dean and he felt his blood go cold again at the sight of him like that. Nobody deserved this, especially not Dean.

            “It’s okay, Dean, baby, I’m here, stay with me.” Cas muttered in a hushed voice, one hand touching Dean’s hair with shaking fingers while the other clutched at the cross he wore around his neck. “Please, Dean, I love you, He’s watching over you, _I’m_ watching over you—“ He rambled on, desperate prayers and jumbled together words spilling from his lips because he didn’t know what else he could do, other than hope that He was listening to Cas.

            Cas didn’t notice when Sam silently returned to the room and sat down next to him, staring at his motionless brother with watery eyes and a pale face.

            The slow rise and fall of Dean’s chest was the only indication of movement that he gave.

            Cas was terrified for Dean, but he couldn’t help but worry for Sam, too. Cas didn’t know the younger Winchester well yet, but he knew how close he and Dean were. How could they not be, growing up in this sort of household?

            It made Cas think of Samandriel, his own younger brother, who had always looked up to him, though sometimes Cas thought he could have chosen a better role model. He pushed aside painful thoughts of the look on his brother’s face when Cas had admitted to him about he and Dean.

            But Lucifer had been the only brother Cas had looked up to, and it had been years since he had even spoken to him. He hadn’t had any real friends until only a few months ago, when he had started to hang around with Dean and Meg more.

            He thought about how alone Sam must be feeling, scared with no big brother to promise him that it was going to be alright.

            Cas knew how that had felt.

            When he was young, and he would get upset, he might not have had any real friends to turn to, but there were still role models, people with words to bring him up. The Beatles, Elton, Bob Dylan, Pink Floyd…It was as close as he had gotten to someone’s hand on his back when he had needed it. They always knew just what to say, _speaking words of wisdom_ to a lost kid, a warm hand reaching out to ask _how does it feel to be on your own?_

            Cas probably wouldn’t have done this under different circumstances, but he was too terrified to think with a very clear mind, and was running on little more than raw instinct at the moment.

            He dropped his hand that had been touching Dean’s hair to slide over Sam’s, gripping the young teen’s in his own.        

            “Hey, Jude…” Cas’s voice was still as quiet as it had been when he was babbling nonsensically to Dean, and the words shook with each syllable. “Don’t make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better…”

            The entire house felt so quiet.           

            He didn’t know what made that song in particular come to him. Maybe it was because Dean had told him once that he remembered his mother singing it to him instead of a lullaby. Maybe it was because Cas has his own memories connected to it, or maybe it was just because he liked the Beatles.

            But the memories were clear, and for a moment Cas was back home, sitting in his bed with his turntable playing music turned up as loudly as it could go. He was a few years shy of Sam’s age, and didn’t understand why he had to act like the older brother, his arms wound around Samandriel’s shoulders while the youngest of the Novak children cried.

            “Cas why are they yelling? I don’t know what’s going on. Turn your music down! It’s too loud!” Samandriel sobbed over the swell of music and the muffled sounds of yelling downstairs.

_Hey Jude, don’t make it bad,_

_Take a sad song, and make it better._

_Remember, to let her into your heart,_

_Then you can start to make it better._

            But Cas didn’t have any answers for his brother. He was only eleven, and he just wanted them to stop yelling. He didn’t understand what was going on, either. He wanted to be able to sit down with Lucifer again and learn guitar from his brother. He didn’t know if that was going to happen again, and it was scary.

            “I think Lucifer is going to go away for a while.” Cas had choked out, trying his best not to cry like Samandriel was.

            “Go away? Why? Is he going to come back?”

            “Samandriel, just be quiet and stop asking so many questions!” Cas knew how harsh that had been to say, but that was the only answer he ever got from anyone, and he hadn’t known any better at the time.

            That was what Lucifer had told him when he asked about the bruises on his arm.

            That was what Michael had said when he asked why they were so angry at each other.

            That was what Gabriel had said when he had wondered when Lucifer was going to come back home.

 

            Cas wasn’t sure when he was brought back to Earth by Sam’s choked out voice joining him, squeezing Cas’s hand tight as he stared down at his brother’s bruised face with wide-eyes.

            “And any time you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, don’t carry the world upon your shoulders…For well you know that it’s a fool, who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder…”

           The song continued to swirl around in Cas’s head as the paramedics rushed in. He hadn’t even heard the siren.

Cas refused to listen to anything they were saying. He was in a daze, and all he could hear was John Lennon’s voice in his mind, hopelessly trying to reassure him.

            It wasn’t until they were rolling Dean into an ambulance in a stretcher, and Cas tried to follow that there was finally some clarity around him again.

            “Are you listening, kid? Are you his brother?” A paramedic whose nametag read _Daniel_ said, barring Cas’s way into the ambulance.

            “What? No, that’s his brother, Sam. I’m his—his friend.”

            “Then you can’t ride in the ambulance, sorry.”

            “What? You don’t understand, my friend is—“ Cas panicked.

“I understand,” The man already had his back to Cas as he climbed into the ambulance where Sam was sitting, his eyes focused on his Dean. “That I don’t have time to argue with you. This boy needs a hospital.” And with that the doors closed in his face, and the ambulance sped off, sirens blaring and Cas was alone.

 

It was over an hour later when a very frantic Cas finally stumbled into the hospital lobby. They had come straight from school in Dean’s car, and Cas didn’t know how to drive manual. He had to run all the way back to the school to get his own car, and drive to the hospital from there. He was barely holding it together, and had no idea how he had even managed to drive in the state he was in. He was so worried about Dean that he felt sick.

“Dean Winchester.” Cas demanded, breathless from running through the hospital parking lot. “I need to see Dean Winchester.” He stared at the middle-aged receptionist who was taking an aggravatingly long time to give Cas disgruntled look before she turned to her computer, fingers typing away at the keyboard.

“Are you related to him?” She asked after a moment, peering over her glasses at Cas.

“Yes.” Cas answered quickly. “We’re, um, brothers.”

The woman didn’t look convinced at all. “Can I see your ID?”

Cas groaned in frustration. “I’m not his brother! He’s—we’re—he’s my best friend and I’m worried about him, so will you just let me in?”

The receptionist clearly didn’t appreciate Cas’s attitude. “His condition is still under investigation and only family members can go in to see him.”

Cas slammed his hands on the counter, glaring at the woman. What was wrong with these people? “My best friend is in the ER and I don’t even know if he’s okay. You are _going_ to let me go see him!”

The woman looked livid, and Cas knew that had probably been the wrong way to react. “Don’t you talk to me like that! You’d best turn around and walk right out that door now or I’m going to call security on you.”

Cas just barely bit his tongue and swallowed down all the things he wanted to say to her. He hovered for a moment, wondering what he should do before finally deflating a bit. The receptionist glared at him as he turned to leave.

He didn’t even know what to _do_. He was so worried and upset and angry and a hundred other things and he didn’t even know what Dean’s condition was. He felt completely useless.

“Fuck!” Cas yelled as he stepped back outside, making a family nearby jump and scowl at him. The curse felt unfamiliar on his tongue and the small rush he got from it helped him release some of his frustration. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!” He repeated the word, kicking the stone wall near the hospital doors. It made his foot hurt and didn’t help at all.

Standing there wasn’t going to do anything, though, so Cas stormed furiously back to his car.

He shoved his key in the ignition, but he didn’t move after he started the car. He stayed there in that parking lot for a long time, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, his music cranked as loud as it would go in a feeble hope that it would drown out his thoughts.

He didn’t know how long he had been there before he finally tugged his phone out of his pocket, staring at it through bleary, tearful eyes.

Cas typed up a quick message, cursing himself inwardly for not thinking of this right away. He found Sam’s name in his contacts and sent the message.

_Sam, this is Castiel. They won’t let me into the hospital. Could you please let me know how Dean is doing and keep me updated? Thank you._

 

The time that passed between sending the message and Sam’s response was agonizing. He glared at his phone like it was the device’s fault.

Cas was starting to get antsy again, and finally decided he had to move. He put his car into drive, and headed home, because he didn’t know where else to go.

Just as he was pulling into his own driveway, his phone went off, and Cas nearly jumped out of his skin. He snatched it up, quickly reading the message with his heart pounding.

 

_deans stable. its mostly a lot of bruising looks worse than he is. nothing broken. said he should be able 2 come home tomorrow. ill keep you updated._

Cas felt warm with relief. He slumped back against his seat, closing his eyes. It wasn’t okay, but Dean would recover. Physically, at least. He knew the problem was far from over, but just knowing what was going on calmed Cas’s nerves a little. He just wished he could be there with him. It took a while before Cas found the effort to move again, and headed inside.

“Castiel?” Michael spoke, already sounding irritated as soon as Cas walked in the door through the garage, entering the kitchen. “Where have you been all aftern—have you been crying?” His brother’s tone immediately melted into concern when he saw the look on Cas’s face. “What’s the matter?”

Normally Cas would have brushed Michael off and went up to his room, but he was so exhausted from everything that had happened, and he felt so pent up that he just exploded onto Michael, telling him everything that had happened. Everything except for the part where he and Dean had been making out.

Cas had gravitated at some point to sit at the bar, resting his chin on his hands. Michael was bustling around the kitchen making Cas lunch and looking appropriately horrified.

“His _father hit him_?” He said as though hoping Cas would tell him it was a bad joke or something. “I’d heard that John Winchester had a bit of a drinking problem, but...” Michael dropped a sandwich in front of Cas with a glass of tea. “Castiel, if your friends ever need a place to stay, they’re welcome here.”

Cas looked up at his brother and felt a rare rush of affection towards him. He knew Michael wasn’t fond of Dean, and seemed to think he was a bad influence on Cas, so it meant a lot that he would open up their doors to Sam and Dean if they needed it.

“Thank you, Michael. I’ll let them know.”

 

Cas had Meg over that night, and Michael even let her stay late before finally declaring that she had to go home around ten. Her company had done wonders to ease his nerves though, and that along with another text from Sam letting Cas know that Dean would be home the following afternoon gave him enough peace of mind to sleep better than he had been predicting.

He still prayed hard that night, though, lying back in bed with his eyes shut tight. He needed Dean to pull through this. _Cas_ needed to pull through this. He reminded himself furiously that it was just another bump in the road before he drifted off to sleep.

 

It was Friday and never once had school dragged on so horribly long. He actually considered skipping class to go see Dean right away, but in the end he decided just to wait it out. Dean wouldn’t be going anywhere.

It looked as though John hadn’t been around since leaving the previous day when Cas arrived, and he didn’t even bother to knock when he rushed into the house through the unlocked front door.

“Sam? Dean?” He called, into the quiet house, taking the stairs two at a time. His stomach was in knots.

“We’re in Dean’s room!” Sam’s voice called, and Cas was barreling in a moment later.

Sam was sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed with his brother who looked about as awful as Cas must have looked after his own hospital visit. But he was sitting up, and awake, and that was enough to make Cas smile, however weary he felt.

It took everything he had in him for Cas to remind himself that Dean was injured and he couldn’t throw himself onto the other boy. He really just wanted to be able to hold Dean and promise him that _somehow_ he’d make sure that would never happen again.

“I’ve never been so worried.” Cas breathed, pressing a soft kiss over Dean’s cut lips as he moved toward the bed. Dean was bruised and a little broken, but he was _whole_ and Cas said a silent _thank you_ in his head for letting Dean get through this in one piece.

But Dean jerked his head away from the kiss. It took a bewildered Cas a few moments to register the motion.

“Dean?”

“Sam, let me talk to Cas for a minute.”

Sam gave Dean a weary look that just made Cas more confused before he left the room.

“Dean, are you alright? I mean—I know you’re not, _alright,_ but—“

“Cas, stop.” Dean’s voice was so cold it took Cas off guard. “Just—Go home or something, okay?”

Cas felt crushed and lost. He had no idea what he had done wrong and it hurt so bad to hear Dean talk to him like that. “Dean…what did I do?”

“Are you serious right now? Dude, look at me. I just got out of the fucking hospital because my Dad kicked the shit out of me. Because I was with you.”

“But Dean, that wasn’t my fault. You—your Dad—“

Dean rolled his eyes and Cas felt his heart break a little more. “Jesus, Cas, it was fun, I guess, for a bit, but did you really think this was supposed to mean something? I was just fucking around because I’ve never been with a guy before, and I’m sure as hell not risking another beating from my dad just for your shitty blow jobs.”

Dean’s face was set, and Cas didn’t even know what to say to him. Dean’s words weren’t _real_. He didn’t mean them, there was no way.

“Dean, are you—I love you.”

Cas thought he saw Dean’s expression falter for a moment, but he quickly turned it to a scowl. “Dude, I’ve known you for like, two months. It’s done, Cas.”

The tone in Dean’s voice was hard and the words bruised Cas worse than Azazel, Lilith an Alastair could have ever hoped to.

The room was quiet, and there were no song lyrics or dead musicians to hold Cas’s hand.


	10. That's The Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries his best to avoid Cas the week following their breakup, and manages to make a new friend.

**That’s The Way**

_I don’t know how I’m gonna tell you, I can’t play with you no more_

_I don’t know how I’m gonna do what mama told me, my friend the boy next door_

            Charlie and Garth wouldn’t stop pestering Dean about why Cas wasn’t sitting with them at lunch anymore. Everything seemed to have been going great, they thought, but suddenly Dean and Cas weren’t speaking.

            Garth was the first to wonder if it had something to do with his hospital visit, but Dean shot that down.

            “He was just way more invested than I was,” Dean said, moodily stabbing at the lukewarm school lunch in front of him one afternoon. “He dropped the ‘L’ word.”

            Charlie made a face. “After a month? Okay, that’s a little crazy.”

            “Yeah. That’s what I mean. I like him and all that, but he was just starting to freak me out.”

            This, of course, was mostly a lie. While Dean was being honest about how uncomfortable Cas’s readiness to drop those words had made him, he hadn’t broken up with the boy because he wasn’t feeling invested.

            Dean _was_ invested. More than he ever thought he would be with Cas when he had signed up for tutoring with him, and maybe a little more than he wanted to be.

            But the bruises on Dean’s body ached along with his pride and he never wanted to hear his dad speak to him that way again.

            Charlie and Garth seemed to take his explanation without much question, though he wondered if it was because they really believed him, or if they were just trying to be gentle with him after what had happened. That sort of irritated him. He wasn’t fragile.

            Dean had never been open to people about his poor relationship with his father, but Charlie and Garth weren’t stupid, and they had figured it out years ago without Dean having to outright tell them. There was no sense in trying to hiding why he’d had to go to the hospital from them, and though he didn’t really want to talk much about it at all, it meant a lot that he had their support.

            Everybody else who questioned him, though, just thought he had been in a fight, which wasn’t exactly unreasonable for Dean. It wouldn’t have been his first. That was what he told them at the hospital when he was questioned about his injuries. He had come off worse in a bad fight, and refused to say anything more.

            It was mostly because if his dad was persecuted for abuse, Sam and Dean would both be put into foster care. They had no other relatives, and Dean was too afraid that they may get split up. Not to mention that Dean would be left on his own in a year when he came of age. He was hoping that if they could just hold out until then that Dean might be able to legally adopt Sam and they could get out, or at least move from their dad’s house.

            But another part of Dean just couldn’t bring himself to get his dad put away like that. Sometimes he wondered if there was a good reason that his dad hit him, but he never voiced that to anyone, not even to Sam. _Especially_ not to Sam.

            So Dean had that along with what he had done to Cas to dwell on for several days while he’d been stuck at home before he returned to school. He wasn’t sure what hurt worse to think about.

            Part of him wondered if he would have felt better to have Cas’s support in all of this, but he wouldn’t let his resolve on that matter waver. He was done. Cas deserved something better, and all of Dean’s insecurities about his sexuality that he’d had before just deciding to date Cas had come right back. It was better to just ignore him.

            It was difficult, though, when they went to the same school, and Dean could feel Cas’s eyes on him every time they were in the same vicinity.

            It made it hard not to think about him all the time, to not recall the crushed look on Cas’s face when Dean had lied to him about the nature of their relationship.

            The days Dean had stayed home from school had been terrible because of it. Their dad had barely been home, and that was good, but Sam had made his feelings on Dean’s decision very clear, and he wasn’t happy about it.

            He was the only person who knew why Dean had actually broken things off. He told Dean that he was stupid for ruining a relationship with a person who really cared about, and that he had been unnecessarily cruel to Cas, who had only been trying to help. He eventually just started to ignore Sam until he finally dropped the subject.

            But there were constant reminders all around, even without Sam’s constant pestering. He could barely listen to music without relating some song to Cas, or imagining him lovingly strumming the chords on his guitar like playing the instrument was as natural to him as breathing. He had tried to watch TV, but when a channel was playing _The Wizard of Oz_ it had made him feel nearly sick, and he hadn’t turned it on again since.

            So it was a relief, despite passing Cas from time to time in the hall, to have the distraction of school to keep his mind off of things.

            He was especially grateful now about the fact that Cas didn’t actually participate in P.E., and instead got stuck in McLeod’s office during the entire period. It saved Dean from awkward interactions.

            He wished McLeod would close those stupid blinds in his office windows, though, because he could see Cas hunched over the desk in there, and could feel those blue eyes on him every few minutes. It was unnerving, and Dean wished, as he was sitting on the gym bleachers waiting for class to start one day, that Cas would just ignore Dean like Dean was doing to him.

            Some of the students were still slowly filing in and Dean was mostly lost in thought until someone took one of the empty seats next to him.

            “Damn, who did you lose a fight to?” A drawling, vaguely southern voice that Dean didn’t recognize spoke with an amused tone.

            Dean looked up at the stranger with a glare, though not a lot of people might have been willing to look at him that way. If it hadn’t been for his lazy smile and kind eyes, Den would have thought he was a bit intimidating. He was built, with a broad frame and tattoos that snaked down his arms from his sleeves, and peeked out along his neck below his collar. He had a scruffy face, and Dean thought he had to at least be his age.

            Dean wasn’t concerned about how he looked, though, and was just irritated about his comment, though admittedly his tone hadn’t sounded nearly as mocking as Dean decided to take it.

            He didn’t even bother responding to the boy, and instead got up to move a few seats away from him just as McLeod sauntered into the gym.

            He barked at the students to ‘get off of their asses’, because they would be running the track _again_ , and anyone who even thought about walking was going to be stuck in detention. Dean had no idea how McLeod got away with acting like such a dick. He really should have been fired ages ago.

            Luckily, Dean personally didn’t really mind running the track, but he hated how his mind immediately leapt to thinking about how much Cas had always hated it.

            _Stop thinking about Cas. Stop thinking about Cas. Stop thinking about—_

“Hey, kid,”

            Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn’t noticed the stranger jog up next to him, and the boy must have noticed that he was startled because he grinned knowingly. Dean scowled.

            “Listen, I didn’ mean to touch no sour notes with you, right? I was tryin’ to make conversation. You don’t gotta talk about whatever fight you lost if you don’ want to.”

            Dean frowned at the boy, watching him warily, though he softened a bit. “Did you just transfer into this class? I don’t remember you before.”

            “Just moved here, actually. From Louisiana. Name’s Benny.”

            Dean was still watching Benny with some mistrust, but he decided respond.

            “I’m Dean.”

            “How’s the school here?”

            Dean shrugged, keeping his eyes focused hard on the track in front of him as they jogged past the window that viewed into McLeod’s office where Dean tried to ignore the feeling of Cas staring.

            “I don’t know. The people here suck. McLeod’s an asshole, but some of the teachers are okay, I guess. Mrs. Harvelle is cool. She’s my neighbor, actually, we’re pretty close to her family.”

            “Oh, yeah, I got her for Lit this semester.”

            “Dramatic Lit?”

            “Yeah.”

            “We’re probably in the same class, then. What else are you taking?”

            “AP History, Stats, Music Theory, and Business.”

            “Music Theory?”

            “Yeah, it’s just a hobby, but I needed an elective, and I like music.” Benny replied with a chuckle.

            Dean’s interest was finally piqued. “What kind of music do you like?”

            It turned out that Benny had pretty good taste, which immediately allowed Dean to warm up to him. His interests were pretty broad, varying to all sorts of genres, but he seemed to really enjoy the punk scene the most.

            He was a pretty cool guy. He liked cooking, and told Dean that he was hoping to open his own restaurant someday. He promised to cook for him if they hung out, an offer that Dean gladly accepted. He dabbled in music, mostly with drums, but he’d toyed with the guitar a bit, too. They joked about starting a band, and became fast friends.

            It was the first decent day Dean had had all week. Benny sat with them at lunch after that, filling Cas’s empty seat, and agreed to hang out with Dean, Charlie and Garth later on.

            It turned out to be a much better distraction from his problems with Cas than school had been, and Dean was deeply grateful to his friends.

            Even his dad, who seemed to have finally come home for a while was oddly quiet. Dean still wasn’t sure what he was feeling towards his father at the moment, but John seemed like he was feeling at least some sort of guilt about what had happened. He didn’t talk to either of the boys at all, but it was a mournful sort of silence. Dean didn’t really know how to take it, so he just let it be. At least John hadn’t been drinking so much.

            In fact, the next few days went better than Dean would have imagined. He almost started to think that maybe he would move past all of this. That was before Cas texted him.

            Thursday night as Dean was working on his Lit homework that Benny had helped him with—he didn’t have a tutor anymore—his phone went off with a message.

 

            _The Celebration Day show is on TV. I know it’s your favorite and you hadn’t watched in a while, so I thought you might like to know._

            It ruined everything. It was such a small thing, but it stuck with Dean all night. The casual tone in Cas’s words, like nothing had happened and they were still friends or at least on speaking terms, were what bothered Dean the most.

            He didn’t answer the text, and he didn’t watch the show, even though it _was_ a great concert.

            An hour and a half later he got a second text that just read ‘I miss you’, and Dean decided to shut his book and go to bed early.

 

            Dean and Benny were jogging the track again the next day in the gymnasium, and for some reason, much to Dean’s displeasure, Cas was out on the gym floor with them all as well.

            Dean figured he must have done something to piss off McLeod, as Cas didn’t look happy at all about being stuck with the rest of the students.

            Dean, however, was doing his very best to ignore Cas, but it was getting increasingly difficult to do as he could feel the other boy watching him a lot. He had to put a lot of effort into trying to focus on his conversation with Benny.

            “—so you gotta come over to my house sometime soon here while my parents are still out. My neighbor can get us some beer and weed, and I got a whole stack of movies I’ve been wantin’ to watch— _Hey_!”

            Dean nearly jumped when Benny suddenly yelled, cutting out the conversation that Dean had been only half invested in in the first place.

            He snapped his head in the direction that Benny was yelling, and he felt his stomach give an unpleasant lurch.

            It looked as though Alastair and Lilith had tripped Cas, who was sprawled on the track, his glasses on the floor and out of his reach. Mr. McLeod, in his usual fashion, was completely ignoring the obvious abuse.

            “What the hell are you assholes laughin’ at?” Benny’s voice boomed dangerously at Lilith and Alastair who quickly backed down at the sight of him. Dean didn’t even think _he_ would mess with Benny when he sounded like that.

            “You alright, brother?” Benny asked, picking up Cas’s glasses as he helped lift the smaller boy to his feet.

            But Cas jerked his arm away from Benny as he stumbled unsteadily to his feet, cramming his glasses back onto his face.

            “I don’t need your help!” He snarled ferociously, glaring at Benny as though he had been the one to trip him. “And I am not your brother!” Even Dean, who knew Cas well, was surprised at how angry he seemed for no apparent reason.           

            “No kiddin’?” Benny said, raising his eyebrows as he stepped back from Cas, less surprised than Dean was about his sour attitude. “I’ll try an’ remember to keep my help to myself then, next time.”

            Dean was trying his best to appear as small as possible, but he could feel Cas looking at him, and he ended up caving in, lifting his gaze to meet those eyes that were so frustratingly easy to get lost in.

            Cas opened his mouth to say something, and for the first time since his entire high school career, Dean was grateful for McLeod, who chose just then to blow his whistle, signaling the end of class.

            Dean didn’t wait a second longer before he grabbed Benny to drag him hurriedly to the locker room, desperate to avoid any confrontation with Cas.

            “Man, I don’t know what the hell that kid’s problem is.” Benny grumbled as they changed out of their gym uniforms. “He’s in History with me first period, and we got paired up to work together. That kid just got a stick up his ass, or what? He was actin’ like I killed his damn dog all mornin’.”

            Dean frowned, pausing to stare at Benny when he shared this information. That didn’t sound like Cas at all. “He was?”

            “Yeah…why, you know him? He’s been starin’ at you a lot.”

            Dean felt a hot surge of irritation that, for a moment, overshadowed the guilt he felt toward Cas. What the hell was Cas acting like a jerk to Benny for? Was it because he had seen the two of them hanging out and he was jealous? That didn’t give him any damn right to take it out on Benny and act like a fucking middle school kid.

            Dean was just about to answer Benny when—as if he knew they were talking about him—Cas walked past them, making a very big deal of not looking at either of them.

            “Yeah, I don’t know,” Dean spoke loudly. “He’s got some gay crush on me or something. He’s super weird.”

            Dean saw Cas falter at his words, and he should have felt like _shit_. He probably would have if he had been able to see Cas’s face, but for now he was too mad to care.

            Benny glanced at Cas as he walked quickly out of the locker room. “What, so he’s jealous you got a friend? That’s messed up.”

            “Yeah, it is. Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”

 

            Dean loved Charlie and Garth, but it was nice to have another close friend he could relate to so well. And it was good timing, as he knew he would be brooding about Cas a lot more if he didn’t have the distraction of a new friend.

            Dean and Benny hung out all day that Saturday, going out to see a local band play, who turned out to be pretty decent, before they headed to Benny’s place. His parents would be gone for a few days, and it left them free to do what they pleased.

            As promised, Benny said there was plenty of beer, among other things, at his house, and Dean was definitely thinking he needed a good drink after everything that had been going on.

            They were just getting out of Dean’s car back at Benny’s place, when a voice caught Dean’s attention.

            “I have pistachios…and I think there’s some walnuts in here, too…”

            Dean looked toward the source of the speech. It was a blond man standing in the yard next door. He was wearing his pajamas, despite that it was getting on late evening, and he was holding a bowl of nuts, staring up into a tree.

            “Uh…is he going to be alright?”

            Benny glanced at the man and laughed. “That’s my neighbor. Hey, brother!” He called, and the man turned vaguely around, smiling when his eyes landed on Benny. “What’re you doin’?”

            “Oh…” The man looked down at the bowl in his hands, then back to the tree. “Well, this squirrel has been in my tree for a long time. I thought he would make a good pet, but he won’t come down.”

            “Why don’t you just get a cat or somethin’?”

            The man looked at Benny again, clearly perturbed by the question. “How would I catch a cat with pistachios?”

            Benny laughed again, shaking his head. “Good point. Lemme know how that works out for you.” He waved at the man, and turned to head inside with Dean.

            “Is he…alright?” Dean asked again, staring back at the man before they closed the door behind them.

            “Yeah, he’s fuckin’ hilarious. Used to do a lot of hard drugs, I guess, but I think he’s mostly clean now. He grows some good weed, though. We hung out a bit right when I moved in, and he’s actually pretty cool. Damn good guitarist, though he’s a bit out of it, obviously.”

            “No kidding?” Dean said with a smile, following Benny upstairs.

            The night was exactly what Dean needed after the week he had had. They smoked a lot and Benny cooked something that Dean didn’t even bother questioning before he scarfed it down. They played video games and watched a movie from there, and then Dean drank himself stupid later on until he fell asleep on Benny’s floor, sleeping straight through the night for the first time all week.

 

            That weekend had helped, but it was far away from getting Dean to forget about Cas. He was starting to think he’d never get him out of his mind, despite the short time they had known each other. Little things were still reminding him of Cas everywhere, like the boy had somehow carved himself into Dean’s life.

            He was still mad at how Cas had treated Benny, but he definitely felt guilty now about what he had said about Cas having a crush on him. Cas didn’t deserve that, even if he was being immature.

            Luckily, though, he was back in McLeod’s office during P.E. on Monday, so Dean was able to avoid him there. Benny did tell him, though, that Cas had given him the same rude attitude that morning. Dean tried to act indifferent, though he didn’t think he was entirely successful, because Benny looked suspicious.

            After P.E. Benny had gone ahead to talk to a teacher about an assignment, leaving Dean to wander alone to the cafeteria with a grumbling stomach.

            He wasn’t really paying much attention as he read a message form Charlie on his phone, and just as he was stepping past the bathrooms just outside the lunchroom, somebody suddenly grabbed his arm, tugging him away.

            Panic gripped at him at first, and Dean looked around wildly, only to see that the person now hauling him into the deserted boy’s bathroom was Cas.

            “Cas!? What the hell are you—let go of me!”

            Dean jerked his arm away from Cas furiously, and was just about to tell him to fuck right off, but he didn’t get the chance to.

            Cas shoved Dean back against the bathroom wall with a sort of dominance that Dean didn’t know he had in him, and forced their lips together.

            Dean had forgotten how perfectly their lips always seemed to fit together, and how warm Cas felt pulled against him.

            For a moment neither of them were angry. They were back in the car at Homecoming, or lying in Cas’s bed, trying to keep quiet so Michael didn’t catch them together like that. They were listening to records, or studying, or doing a hundred things together that Dean loved even if it was just because he was with Cas.

            But the fourth period bell rang and it snapped Dean back to the painful reality of a dirty high school bathroom and a boy that he had never wanted to break up with.

            Dean shoved Cas away, hating himself for doing it. Cas looked so pitiful in that moment, wide, hurt eyes staring at Dean through those stupid looking glasses, that Dean nearly pulled him right back.

            He wanted to keep Cas warm and tell him he was so, so sorry, that he hadn’t meant any of it and that Cas was stupid for being jealous because Dean had never felt even a fraction of what he felt for Cas towards anyone else.

            But the bruises on Dean’s skin had far from healed, and he just couldn’t deal with all of the baggage that came with this.

            He had been hurt because of them.

            Cas had been hurt because of them.

            “What part of ‘it’s over’ is so hard for you to understand?” Dean said, disgusted at how cruel his own words sounded.

            “Explain to me.” Cas said firmly, looking a bit shaky. “How none of what we had meant anything to you.”

            “I don’t have to explain anything, Cas. You just got too into something. You thought it meant more than it did, and that’s it.”

            “What if I don’t’ believe you?”

            “Then you’re wrong.” Dean couldn’t meet Cas’s eyes when he said that.

            “Dean, if you would just talk to me—“

            “There’s nothing to talk about, Cas. You’re the only one who wants to talk. And what’s with the way you’ve been treating Benny? What’s he ever done to you?”

            Cas’s eyes narrowed and he looked huffy. “I don’t like him.”

            “You’re jealous.”

            “No, I’m not.”

            “Whatever. Just leave him alone.” Dean muttered, shoving past Cas while he tried to erase the feeling of the boy’s lips against his own from his memory. “And me, too.”


	11. Sympathy for the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is dealing with a lot in light of his break up, and decides to seek out some brotherly advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should give this chapter a slight dubcon warning, though I don't know that I would even call it that. The scene is totally consensual, but given the sketchy situation I just want to give a little warning to be safe.

**Sympathy for the Devil**

_But what’s confusing you is the, nature of my game_

            If it wasn’t for Meg, Cas didn’t even know how he’d be getting through any of it. And if it wasn’t for Cas himself, he was pretty sure Meg would have bashed Dean’s face into a locker by then.

            Cas had never expected he and Meg to get so close when that semester had started, but after he had come out to her on Homecoming night at the restaurant, something in their friendship had changed. It was like that moment bonded them somehow, and Cas was now left wondering how they had never been close before.

            This had eventually lead Meg to showing a very vicious protectiveness over Cas, who had just barely managed to convince her that punching Dean in the face (again) wouldn’t fix the problem. Even if sometimes Cas hoped that it might.

            Even so, Cas still wished he had someone else to talk to. He wished he could talk to his family, but that was far from being a reasonable option.

            There was always Balthazar, but he had been so busy lately that they had hardly gotten to spend any time together.

            And his brothers…it was almost funny thinking about trying to talk to them about it. Samandriel still seemed unable to look Cas in the eye after their conversation in the car, and he didn’t even want to think about telling Michael or Gabriel about Dean. That sounded like a death wish, more than anything. Or at least a one way ticket out of the family.

            But that idea was what triggered Cas’s line of thought for a few days. He did, after all, have one more brother, and if anyone in the family was going to understand Cas, it would be him.

            The unfortunate part of this was that Cas hadn’t spoken to Lucifer in six years. Nobody in the family had, to his knowledge. He also had no idea how he would go about contacting him, even if the prospect of talking his eldest brother after so much time had passed wasn’t daunting.

            “Castiel?”

            The teen was startled out of his thoughts when Michael suddenly addressed him. He seemed to come out of nowhere sometimes.

            Cas had one foot on the staircase, about to head up to his room when he turned around to face his brother. “Yes?”         

            “Is everything okay with you right now? You’ve seemed a bit off this week.” Michael stood a few feet away from Cas, a concerned expression on his face.

            Cas could have almost laughed at how quickly that sympathy would have drained if Michael knew about the real problem.

            “What about Lucifer?” The words spilled out of Cas’s mouth so fast that he almost startled himself that time. He didn’t really think before he spoke, and with the look Michael gave him Cas half wished he could take the question back.

            Michael stiffened up, his expression hardening. Nobody talked about Lucifer in the family anymore. Saying his name seemed to be on the same level as saying a bad curse word in their household. As far as Michael was concerned, at least. He was the one who always got so upset about the touchy subject.           

            “What about him?” Michael asked, looking suspicious.

            Cas probably knew better, but he had already breached the subject, so he decided there wasn’t really a point in turning back now. “Why don’t we talk about him? I know he did a lot of bad things, but he’s still our brother. He’s still family.”

            “Lucifer made his own choices, Castiel. He knew what he was doing when he chose that lifestyle before his family.”

            “He’s still our brother.” Cas repeated fiercely, determined, now that he’d started, to defend his brother. He couldn’t help it, really; despite all that Lucifer had done, Cas used to really look up to him. “And _you_ kicked him out. He didn’t decide to leave.”

            “Lucifer is a drug addict and a complete degenerate.”

            “So why didn’t you help him?”

            A dangerous look crossed Michael’s face at Cas’s words, and he seemed to loose some of his calm, collected attitude that he always held. Cas felt a little unnerved. “I _tried_.”

            “If you had tried then he would still be part of the _family.”_

            “Castiel, you were a child when all of that happened. You don’t even understand the situation. I did what I had to do. For you, and our brothers, and this family.”

            Cas didn’t know where this sudden sense of injustice regarding Lucifer’s situation was coming from after all of these years, but it just made him so angry.

            When he was a kid, Cas had looked up to Lucifer. Lucifer had taught him how to play the guitar, introduced him to music…he had even bought Cas his beloved Les Paul for Christmas years ago, not long before he had been kicked out.

            “If you had tried you wouldn’t have cut him out. All you care about is your fucking—“

“Castiel!”

“—Image! Do you even care about this family?”

Michael held himself high when he spoke, his words burning with anger that matched Castiel’s. “This family is the most important thing in my life. If you understood all that I do—“

            “No it’s not! You don’t care, and you _never_ cared about Lucifer!”

            _Smack._

Cas had barely gotten the words out of his mouth before he felt a sharp sting against the side of his face.

            Michael looked about as stunned as Cas felt, the anger on his face quickly melting in place of horror when he realized that he had just smacked his younger brother.

            “Castiel, I-I didn’t mean—“ He tried, but Cas didn’t even give his brother the option to finish his apology.

            He stormed up the staircase and into his room in a few quick strides, slamming the door shut behind him, and for once, Michael didn’t follow after.

 

            The confrontation with Michael had done nothing to lessen Cas’s foul attitude that seemed to have shrouded over him in light of the breakup. He had stayed in his room all night, skipping dinner, and Michael didn’t pester him to come out.

At some time before he had gone to sleep his brother had knocked on his door, probably in an attempt to talk things out, but Cas had feigned sleep, even though it didn’t come for another several hours.

Things only got worse the following day at school when Cas turned up in Mr. McLeod’s office for gym, as usual, and had been issued a detention for later that afternoon because he hadn’t dropped off the homework he had graded for his teacher before school.

“You just said it was for today!” he had argued, but unsurprisingly Mr. McLeod just assured Cas that he could complain all he wanted if he desired to spend the entire semester in detention.

He knew it was just because the man was trying to give Cas a hard time. He had been especially awful lately, nitpicking at the smallest things to get Cas in trouble, and had even made Cas join the rest of the class out on the track one morning.

So Cas was left to watch the fifty minutes of third period drag on at an agonizing rate, bubbling with fury at his teacher, his brother, Dean, and a little bit at himself, too. Well, perhaps he was more than a little angry with himself.

Seeing Dean and Benny playing basketball together out in the gymnasium didn’t help either, and Cas felt a hot surge of jealousy mingle in with his anger.

That feeling only grew later when he sat alone during lunch, glowering over at the table that he had spent a glorious few weeks eating at: his old spot was now claimed by _Benny_.

It just wasn’t fair that Dean had broken Cas’s heart so easily, and was already moving on, making a new best friend.

And what if Benny was _more_ than just a best friend? The thought made Cas sick. He firmly decided that he _hated_ Benny, and that was that.

So it was with a very bad temper that Cas finally dragged himself back to McLeod’s office after last period.

“This is completely unfair.” Cas snapped as he slammed the office door behind him, determined to make his defiance known.

“Sorry, love.” Mr. McLeod spoke from behind his desk, a gloating smirk on his lips. “You know I just can’t bare to only see you during one class.”

Cas dropped his backpack with a loud thump onto the floor and glared at his teacher.

“I have things I should be doing right now.”

“Ah, well, it’s a real shame you’re stuck here for two hours, then.”

Cas had been halfway through pulling a book from his bag when he froze, the object slipping from his fingers at McLeod’s words.

“ _Two hours?_ ” He yelled, the slightly subdued anger suddenly exploding inside of him again.

“Inside voice, angel. You heard me. Two hours.”

“Detentions are only supposed to last for half an hour.”

“Maybe for other teachers, but I don’t think thirty minutes is quite enough time to reflect on your wrongdoings.”

Cas wished he could smack that awful smile right off of McLeod’s face.

“Wrongdoings.” He repeated. “I didn’t do anything wrong. You were unclear about what you wanted done.”

“Perhaps you should listen a little better next time.” He watched Cas with a calculating expression for a moment before going on. “I suppose I could be persuaded to lessen the punishment if you’re willing to do some extra work.”

“What else do you want me to do?” Cas snapped, frustrated. “Teach your class?”

McLeod laughed and it made Cas angrier.

“Come over here, sweetheart.” He said, gesturing at the teen.

Cas pushed back his chair with more force than was really necessary and stormed behind the desk where his teacher sat.

He looked so vexingly smug about Cas’s anger, and it really wasn’t helping the situation at all.

“You need to let go of some of that aggression, angel. You might explode.”

“Get to your point.”

“How about you stop running your pretty mouth, and put it to better use. Then you can go.”

McLeod turned in his chair so he was facing Cas, his legs open with an expectant expression on his face.

It took Cas a moment. Innuendo, as usual, always seemed to take a bit to work its way through Cas’s mind, if it even managed to get that far. This time it did.

Cas’s blank expression instantly dissolved into one of shock and disbelief as he gaped at his teacher, unsure of how he should even respond to an invitation like that.

“I-Is this supposed to be a flirtation!?” He stammered.

“Call it what you want, but I don’t know how I can make this much clearer for you. Get on your knees, and wrap those pretty lips of yours around my cock. Then you can go.”

A few months ago Cas had hardly even come to terms with his sexuality. He certainly wouldn’t have even considered doing anything promiscuous, _especially_ with his teacher, who was God-knew-how-old. It had taken him long enough just to feel comfortable enough to go down on _Dean_.

But it must have been some combination of his hurt and bitter feelings towards Dean, and his desire for rebellion from the altercation with Michael that caused Cas’s normally unwavering moral standards on sex to wobble.

He really hated McLeod, but maybe there was something about that notion that made him shudder at the suggestion, and he found himself nodding in a slightly sheepish agreement with far less hesitation than he would have been willing to admit.

Cas didn’t get much of a chance to think far beyond that before McLeod reached up to grab the teen by the collar of his shirt, practically dragging the teen into his lap.

A rough, scratchy kiss was forced onto Cas’s lips. It didn’t feel at all like kissing Dean did. The softness and warmth and what Cas had once thought was love were all missing, replaced with quick, sloppy aggression and a need for physicality and nothing more.

            Cas wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, straddling the man’s lap, his shaking hands gripping McLeod’s shoulders as he tried so hard to ignore the growing feeling between his own legs. It didn’t seem like very long, however, before McLeod finally got bored with the contact and shoved Cas off of him, clearly ready to get down to the intended business.

            Cas fell to his knees, staring helplessly up at McLeod who rolled his eyes.

            “Don’t give me those eyes, kitten. You’re not as innocent as you think, and I know it.”

            Cas dropped his gaze, and felt his cheeks grow hot with embarrassment when he really let it sink in what he was about to do. He couldn’t believe he was agreeing to this. It was so sinful.

            He pushed back the thoughts quickly though, deciding that the whole thing would go smoother if he just jumped right in, moral obligations aside.

            But when Cas finally opened up the man’s slacks he found himself feeling a bit nervous again.

            McLeod certainly had a cock big enough to match his ego, and though Cas had gotten himself to nervously wrap his fingers around the base, he wasn’t getting much further than that.

            McLeod was clearly growing impatient with the teen. With an irritated noise, he finally reached a hand down to push through Cas’s messy hair, fingers twisting around the strands. He gave a sharp tug, dragging Cas’s head down so that McLeod could press the head of his cock against the boy’s mouth, smearing precome over his lips.

            “Suck.” McLeod demanded with a low growl, and Cas couldn’t argue that.

            The teen opened his mouth willingly, taking the older man’s thick cock into his mouth. He never would have considered Dean to be modest in size, but Cas had a little difficulty managing to stretch his lips around McLeod’s cock.

            “Well don’t just sit there, Castiel. Didn’t your boytoy teach you anything? Use your tongue.”

            Cas looked up at McLeod, feeling a bit humiliated at being in such a compromised position with his teacher, but he didn’t ignore the demand. He focused back at the task on hand, pushing back the guilt that ate at him for enjoying this as much as he was.

            Cas may not have had a lot of sexual experience in his time, but he was a quick learner, and his time with Dean had already taught him a thing or two about giving head, even if he still had a lot to learn.

            The teen pulled his head back, sucking on the head of McLeod’s cock for a moment, reminding himself with determination not to look up and meet the man’s eyes as he so often did with Dean. He only stayed like that for a few short moments, swirling his tongue around the head before he dipped back down, once again trying with a slight struggle to take down as much of the older man as he could.

            McLeod’s hand remained on the back of Cas’s head, still giving sharp tugs to his hair whenever he deemed necessary.

            It was when Cas pulled back a second time to swipe his tongue over the slit, lapping up a small amount of precome, that McLeod changed his direction a bit.

            He pushed Cas’s head back down with more force than Cas had expected, forcing his dick deeper into the teen’s mouth.

            Cas’s eyes watered and he felt his own cock twitch with unexpected excitement at the rough treatment, despite not being at all used to it.

            McLeod held him like that for a few moments before he finally loosened his grip, letting Cas pull back to a more comfortable position again.

            That didn’t last long, and soon enough the teacher was holding Cas’s head down again, drawing a muffled sound from the teen’s lips that, judging by the accompanying groan that his teacher let out, had added some nice vibrations to the touch.

            “That’s right, angel,” McLeod said breathlessly, beginning to rock into Cas’s mouth. “Such a good whore…”

            He gave a sharp snap of his hips, the head of his cock bumping against the back of Cas’s throat, and it was taking everything in him not to choke.

            He didn’t get any warning when, after a few more thrusts and grunts from his teacher, McLeod was spilling into Cas’s mouth, holding his head down with little thought as Cas tried desperately to gulp down the bitter taste.

            It felt like ages before McLeod finally let him go, and the teen reeled back, gasping for much needed air. He heard the older man chuckle above him.

            “Too much for you, pet?”

            “No.” Cas rasped, his voice rough as he scrambled to his feet. “May I go now?”

            “Well, you can if you want, I suppose,” McLeod stood up, his eyes trailing over Cas’s body. “But I never said I wouldn’t do you any favors.”

            “I don’t want anything from you.”

            He laughed again, and Cas seethed.

            “Nothing at all? Because I’m pretty sure your body is saying otherwise.” The space between them was suddenly gone, and McLeod reached between Cas’s legs, grabbing the teen’s hard-on through his jeans.

            Cas yelped and stumbled away, his cheeks flushing darker than they already had been. “D-don’t touch me!”

            McLeod laughed again. “After all that, sweetheart?”

            Cas fumbled to pick up his school bag, slinging over his shoulder. He didn’t give McLeod another look before he tore out of the office as quickly as he could manage.

 

           

            It was that same night after dinner, when Cas was in his bedroom trying to focus on homework, which was proving to be very difficult. He couldn’t get McLeod’s voice out of his head, and every time he thought of what had happened he felt a sickening mix of guilt and arousal welling up inside of him.

            He couldn’t believe he had agreed to what he had done, but what really got him was the fact that he really hade enjoyed it.

            Cas was lost in his troubled thoughts when Michael, who had barely spoken to him since their argument the previous day, showed up.

            “Castiel, do you have a moment?” He asked, leaning in the doorway. He hadn’t bothered to knock.

            Cas wasn’t feeing quite so warm towards Michael yet, but he gave his brother a begrudging nod and sat up, staring expectantly at the man.

            Michael frowned, clearly sensing that Cas was not very happy with him, but he closed the door and sat next to Cas on his bed.

            “I’m sorry about yesterday. And please don’t look at me like that, Castiel, I’m being honest with you. I overreacted, and I never should have hit you like that.”

            Cas was considering replying with some snide comment, but the sincere expression on Michael’s face made those words die in his throat. It wasn’t very often that his brother admitted to doing something wrong.

            “I just don’t think it’s right that we don’t talk—“ He started instead, but Michael cut him off.

            “I am not finished. It was wrong of me to overreact the way I did, but you need to understand why. You were out of line, Castiel.”

            The small puddle of forgiveness that Cas had begun to feel immediately dried up, and his face showed it.

            “Do not roll your eyes at me. You were eleven when Lucifer left, and you don’t even know half of what went on during all of that. Do you know how many times I tried to get Lucifer into rehab? He promised me constantly that he was going to quit using, and he lied. He lied every time and I,” Michael paused, and Cas stared curiously at him. Michael had always been more parental than brotherly for as long as Cas remembered, and he always sort of saw him that way. He was the one who was always calm under pressure, and knew what to do in bad situations. He got a little hot-tempered sometimes, but mostly he was very put together. There were very few times that Cas could remember seeing Michael as upset as he looked in that moment.

            “I really did try, Castiel.” He continued. “And it wasn’t just the drugs. You have to understand what he was like…Always disappearing at night, and he...he slept with the girls I liked, and laughed about it later. He was _terrible_. And even then I couldn’t bring myself to do anything about it until it started to affect you, Samandriel and Gabriel. You remember that, don’t you, Castiel?”

            Cas frowned, his eyes still on his brother’s face. “Yes.” He said a bit glumly. “I remember.” He remembered sitting down to practice guitar with his eldest brother, but when he walked into his room Lucifer had been trying to give himself a shot—or that was what Cas thought at the time, at least. His hands had been shaking too badly to do it himself, and he had asked Castiel to help. He told Cas that he was sick, and it was some sort of medication. That had all been a lie, of course. He had been shooting up heroin for a while by that point, and Cas had completely panicked when Lucifer became all but unresponsive only moments after. He thought he had killed his brother.

            And that was even aside from the time his brother almost _had_ died. It had been in the middle of the night, Samandriel had wanted a drink of water but was too frightened to go downstairs himself. So Cas had walked his little brother down to the kitchen, but it turned out that they weren’t the only two awake at the time. Lucifer had been sitting on the couch in the living room, and was just pulling the then empty needle from his arm.

They had both been too young to really understand the situation at first, but when Lucifer had collapsed only moments later, and seemed to be unable to breathe, they had panicked and gotten Michael.

            He called 911. And ambulance came and took Lucifer away. He was stabilized, and came home. A week later he was gone, and Cas hadn’t seen him since.

            And then there was the car accident…but Cas didn’t like to think about that one. _Nobody_ liked to think about that. Gabriel in particular.

            “But I don’t think kicking Lucifer out was the correct solution to a _drug overdose_. How do you even know he’s still alive?”

            “First of all, Castiel, it wasn’t just my decision. Dad put his foot down. He told me it was time to do it, but I agreed. And second of all, do you really think that I don’t know where he lives?”

            “…What?”

            “I know you think that I couldn’t care less about Lucifer, but you’re wrong. He’s my brother, and I still love him. Mom and Dad have helped me keep tabs on him since he moved out.”

            “Since you kicked him out.”

            Michael gave Cas a dark look, but didn’t say anything. “The point is, he’s moved around a lot, and I don’t know much about what he has going on—if he’s clean, or not, but I know that he’s alive.”

            “So go talk to him!”

            Michael looked at Cas like he was out of his mind. “Castiel, don’t act like you honestly think that that is going to happen.”

            Cas glowered at Michael, hating how stubborn he could be.

            “…I’ll let you get back to your homework.” Michael finally said, getting to his feet. “I just wanted to let you know that I really am sorry for yesterday.”

            Cas looked at Michael and nodded. “…It’s all right.” He said quietly, and watched as his brother walked away.

           

            Michael had no idea what Cas would do with the information he had received. If he had, Cas knew Michael never would have told him any of it.

            But as it was, Cas was driving slowly down a rural street in town, trying to find the address that matched the one he had scribbled down on a scrap of paper.

            Michael was very organized, so it had been easy to sneak into the office in their house while he was at work and find where he had Lucifer’s address copied down. Cas couldn’t believe that Lucifer was still living in town. All that time and his oldest brother had only been 15 minutes away…

            It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, either, like Cas had sort of been expecting. He crept along the street slowly until he finally found the right address. The lawn was a little untended, but other than that it didn’t look too bad. He felt dip in his stomach when he saw Lucifer’s Buick parked in the driveway. The back was still covered in bumper stickers like Cas remembered, and fuzzy dice hung from the rear view mirror. Cas recalled Lucifer refusing to drive the car their parents had wanted to buy for him; he said it was too ritzy, and wanted to save up for one of his own. Michael had always hated it, saying that it was dangerous and it would backfire someday while Lucifer was driving. Apparently that hadn’t happened yet.

            Cas lingered there for a moment, lost in the memories before he regained himself and headed up to the front door. He could hear muffled music playing inside.

            He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was going to do. Six years. People could change a lot in six years. That was scary to think about. His brother could be anyone by now.

            Castiel knocked, and waited.

            Nobody answered.

            He knocked twice more, and rang the doorbell. Still nothing.

            Cas looked around. The curtains were drawn on all the windows, but it definitely seemed as though someone was home. He cast one more glance down both ends of the street. Nobody was there. He stared at the door and hesitated before trying the knob. It was unlocked, so Cas walked in.

            The music boomed much louder when Cas was inside. There were old shoes stacked haphazardly by the door, and it looked like the doorway hadn’t been swept in…ever, really.

            The whole place had sort of a strange smell that Cas couldn’t place, but he walked in anyway, following the sound of the music.

            It only took him a moment to recognize the voice singing and realize that it wasn’t music playing from a stereo; Lucifer was singing, and probably playing his guitar, too.

            “ _Never speak a word again, I will crawl away for good. I will move away from here, you won’t be afraid of fear._ ”

            Cas didn’t know the song, but he followed the noise through to what appeared to be Lucifer’s living room. It was a bit messy, with a few plates and food wrappers sitting on the coffee table. Most of the furniture looked old, but the television was a new looking big screen which had a Playstation 2 and an Xbox hooked up to it.

            And there was Lucifer, standing in the middle of the living room, dressed like he was still living in ’96 with torn up jeans, and a very old looking Grateful Dead t-shirt. He didn’t even notice Castiel standing there; he was too busy strumming at his guitar. It was the same one he had used when he taught Cas how to play years ago.

            “ _No thought was put into this, always knew it would come to this,_ ” he sang to an invisible audience.

            “Uh…Lucifer?” Cas tried, but the amp was turned up too loud.

            “ _Things have never been so well, I have never felt this well.”_

“Lucifer! Hello!”

            “ _Paaaaaaaaaiiiiiiin! Paaaaaaaiiiiin!_ ”

            “Lucifer!”

            “ _Paaaaaaaiiiiin! Paaaaiiii—_ “

            “Lucifer!” Cas finally managed to bellow his brother’s name loud enough for him to hear.

            His pick screeched against the strings and the sound of jumbled notes lingered for a moment before the sound faded out. His blue eyes were wide and staring at Cas like he wasn’t sure what to make of him.

            Cas suddenly felt a bit sheepish under his brother’s stunned gaze, and he shrunk in on himself a little. “Hello, Lucifer. It’s—“  

            “Castiel.” His brother said, sounding amazed. It made Cas a little uncomfortable.

            “Yes. Yes, it’s Castiel.”

            They stared at each other. What were you supposed to say to someone you hadn’t spoken to in 6 years?

            “Does Michael know you’re here?” It didn’t really surprise Cas that that was Lucifer’s first question, oddly enough.

            Cas shook his head. “He’d kill me if he knew.”

            Lucifer smirked. “I knew you’d take after me.”

            Cas wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but he didn’t say anything.

            “Uh…you want something to drink? I’ve got…I don’t know. I think I’ve got some Capri Suns in the fridge.”

            Cas stared maybe for a little longer than he should have before he nodded, only because he wasn’t sure what else to do.

            Lucifer turned to walk into the kitchen, but his guitar was still strapped over his shoulder and hooked to the amp. He stumbled a little when it caught, stopped, looked down at his guitar for a few long seconds before he finally decided to unplug it, rather than just taking the guitar off. He disappeared into the kitchen with Cas staring after him.

            He’d barely been there five minutes and Cas barely knew what to make of Lucifer. Maybe he just seemed strange because it had been so long.

            Cas took a seat on the couch just as Lucifer came back out with the Capri Suns.

            “So,” Lucifer flopped down next to him, handing Cas his drink. Cas waited for him to go on, but Lucifer had busied himself with trying to get the straw into the pouch. He ended up puncturing the back of the packaging, and stared at it a little distressed. “I hate it when that happens…” Lucifer stared at the drink for a moment longer before he seemed to realize that Cas was still there, and looked up again. “Are you still in school?”

            Cas nodded. “I’m graduating in the spring.”

            “Holy shit. Baby brother’s all grown up.”

            “Er…I suppose…”

            “So, what made you decide to come find me? Especially behind Michael’s back.” Lucifer pulled the straw out of the Capri Sun package and immediately closed his mouth over the extra hole he had created, sucking the juice out so it wouldn’t spill.

            “Uh…a lot of reasons, I suppose. I’ve missed you. I don’t think it’s right that nobody talks about you.”

            “Nobody talks about me?”

            “Not really…Michael doesn’t like talking about you.”

            Lucifer scoffed. “Figures.”

            “And I suppose I just wanted someone to talk to.”

            “What about?”

            Cas hesitated. He knew Lucifer didn’t talk to the rest of the family, and if anyone was going to understand, it was him, but it was still difficult to talk about his sexuality to anyone.

            “…Have you ever been with a man before?” Cas blurted suddenly.

            “Well yeah, loads of times.” Lucifer didn’t even seem surprised by Cas’s question, as though he had merely asked about the weather.

            Cas, however, wasn’t expecting that response. “You—you have?” He stammered, his eyes wide. He couldn’t believe it. Lucifer had actually been with men before? And he seemed so casual about it. It seemed so ridiculous to say something like that with such carelessness.

            “Yeah, I mean, I guess I don’t really care who I sleep with.”

            “Oh.”

            “I know where this is going. You can just say it, I’m the only one here. I don’t give a shit whose dick you’re sucking.” He gave a small smile and slouched down a little. “Man, I knew if anyone was gonna be gay in this family, it’d be you. Does Michael know?”

            Cas raised his eyebrows and Lucifer laughed.

            “Yeah, you’d be asking to bunk up here if he did, wouldn’t you? That’s not why you’re here, is it?”

            “You think Michael would kick me out?”

            “Probably. He’s all high and mighty, Jesus freak, you know…”

            “People call me a Jesus freak in school.”

            “Yeah, they called Michael that, too. He’s got such a thick head though, never mattered much to him. Most of the time.”

            “My boyfriend broke up with me.”

            “That’s rough.” Lucifer studied Cas’s face “That what you wanna talk about?”

            And despite the rocky start, Lucifer turned out to be pretty great company. Cas told him about everything, starting with how he and Dean had begun talking, all the way up through what he had done with Mr. McLeod a few days ago at school. It felt good to get it all out to someone, even if Lucifer did seem a bit spacy from time to time.

            But he listened, and he understood. He didn’t look down on Cas for anything he had done. He actually seemed to think it was a bit funny that he had gone down on McLeod. He told Cas that he’d slept with teachers before, too, and instead of worrying so much about everything, he should just do what made him feel good. Cas wasn’t sure how sound this advice was coming from an (ex?) junkie, but he was grateful for it all the same.

            “I dunno, Cas, Dean sounds sorta flaky to me. I think he just broke up with you because he’s…you know, insecure or something. Not because you give bad blow jobs. I’m sure you give great blow jobs. I think that runs in the family. Probably.”

            “Oh…um...” Cas was spared answering Lucifer’s statement by the sound of his doorbell ringing.

            “Oh.” Lucifer stared at the door. “There’s someone here.” He got up and slowly walked to the front door, where Cas heard a familiar voice greet him.

            “Hey, Lu, how’s it goin’?”

            “Hi, Benny. Oh, are you…” But Lucifer’s voice dropped quieter, and Cas couldn’t hear what he was saying.

            Cas felt his heart racing and anger that hadn’t been there a moment before rose in his chest. _Benny_ knew his brother?

            He leaped off of the couch and hurried over to the door where and Benny were, wishing to know what was going on.

            “Thanks, Lu, you got good shit, so—Oh.” Benny stopped talking when he saw Cas. “Hey, Cas. What’re you doin’ here?” He tried to give Cas a smile, but it wasn’t working very well.

            “This is my brother.” Cas replied stiffly.

            “No shit?” Benny said, looking genuinely surprised. “You an’ Lu are brothers? I never would have guessed.”

            “Benny lives next door.” Lucifer explained to Cas before turning back to the other teenager.

            Benny pulled a few bills from his pocket and handed it to Lucifer, who traded him what looked like a dimebag full of—

            “Is that _weed_?” Cas asked, squinting at the stuff.

            “Cas, you ain’t gonna say nothin’, are you?” Benny said, looking a little uncomfortable.

            Cas’s immediate thought was to go to the police and get Benny into as much trouble as he could. But if Benny had gotten it from Lucifer, Cas couldn’t very well do much without possibly getting his brother into trouble, too.

            “No.” He replied begrudgingly, looking away. So Benny was a boyfriend thief, _and_ a pothead?

            “Well…I got company, so I’ll talk to you later, Lu.”

            “Yeah, stop by anytime.” Lucifer said with a smile. “You’re always welcome to chill here.”

            Benny gave Lucifer a short wave and left.

            As soon as the door was shut, Cas spoke.

            “You sell _drugs_? To _teenagers_?”

            “It’s just _weed_ , Cas. And I don’t _just_ sell to teenagers.”

            “But that’s…that’s _illegal_.”

            “You sound like Michael.” Lucifer sighed, heading back to the living room.

            Cas frowned and followed him, but he didn’t sit down this time. “…I’d better head home.” He mumbled, staring at his brother who looked a little upset by the news.

            “Oh…well…you should come by again. It was nice seeing you.”

            Despite his distaste for Lucifer’s apparent side job, Cas really had enjoyed talking with him. He gave his brother a smile and nodded. “I will, I promise. I’m glad now that I came by.” He said sincerely.

            They hugged then, and it was a little weird, but not terrible. Cas really had missed his brother.

            All in all it had been a good visit, and Cas was feeling in a slightly better mood than he had been for a while.

            It had helped to get everything out, even though he had talked things out with Meg, as well. Someone in his family knew, and didn’t hate him, and that meant a lot.

            For a moment he thought perhaps the rest of the night would go well. Maybe he’d go home, and stay distracted, read a book—that was, until, he stepped outside and happened to glance at the house that Benny apparently lived at.

            Everything came crashing back down on him so suddenly that he felt a little dizzy with grief at first. Cas couldn’t look away from the black, ’67 Impala parked in the driveway next door.


	12. How Deep It Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean continues to try getting Cas out of his mind, but finds it more difficult when he intended.

**How Deep It Goes**

_I know you don’t like the blues, cause the words are always the same_

_And they kind of remind me of you_

 

            Dean watched the tendrils of smoke curl above their heads before it faded away into the starry backdrop.

            Music spilled from the open windows of the car, and the volume was up loud enough for Dean to feel the vibrations coursing through the hood where he was lying. His knees felt numb and the countryside stars looked breathtaking in a way he had never noticed. It felt a bit otherworldly, and maybe a little overwhelming, but it wasn’t bad.

_Haven’t you heard, it’s a battle of words,_

_The poster bearer cried._

_Listen son, said the man with the gun,_

_There’s room for you inside._

            “Christ.” Dean said, a smile curling on his lips as he spoke. “Saxophones, man. I can _feel_ that saxophone.”

            “Yeah, you’re done.” Benny chuckled, reaching over to pluck the glass pipe from Dean’s hands. Dean didn’t protest, and just let his arms fall to his sides. “Very original with the music choice, by the way.”

            “Shut up, Benny.” Dean laughed. “It’s a great album.”

            “I guess. Don’t seem like your sorta thing.”

            “I’m not normally so mellow. But it reminds me of someone.” It was one of Cas’s favorite albums. He missed Cas, and the absence of his sobriety allowed Dean to let his mind stray. He could still taste the lingering sense of Cas’s lips on his own from their last kiss. It seemed so far away now, even though it had really only been a few days. Kissing Cas had always felt great, but Dean bet that it would have felt even better in that  moment. Though any kiss, really. Maybe he would ask Lisa out again. He knew she’d say no, though. She was smart enough for that.

            “Stop bein’ so dramatic.”

            “I’m not dramatic.”

            “You ever listen to yourself talk?”

            Dean huffed but he didn’t argue back. Why was he thinking about Cas, anyway? It wasn’t like they’d known each other for that long. He was great and all, but there were other people out there.

            Dean glanced over at his friend, forgetting for a moment from the haze clouding his mind that the biggest issue with Cas had been due to them both being men. Benny was good looking. And Dean liked spending time with him. In fact, Dean really liked spending time with him.

            Kissing Benny in that moment seemed like a flawless idea. He’d met someone really great, and he could just forget about all of that stuff with Cas…What he didn’t seem to count on was the possibility that Benny might not reciprocate those feelings.

            “What the—“ Benny started as Dean leaned in. Their lips barely met for a second before Benny moved Dean off of him with a rough shove.  “What d’you think you’re doin’!?”

            “Uh…well, you know…” This was quickly becoming a very bad idea, and Dean wished his mind would work a little faster so he could get himself out of this. “I’m not gay.” He said stupidly.

            “Yeah, sure you ain’t.”

            “No! I like girls!”

            “Dean, I don’t give a damn who you like, but that don’t mean I want you kissin’ me. ‘Sides, I know ‘bout you an’ Cas, so I don’t know why you’re tryin’ to lie to me.”

            “You…uh…” Dean tried hard to form an excuse, but as he didn’t have any idea about how Benny even knew about them, there wasn’t really much to go on. “How?”

            “Wasn’t hard to figure out. Cas’s attitude, for one. An’ you two always starin’ at each other.”

            “I don’t—“

            “You do. But what really got me thinkin’ on it was when were in gym, and you went and made some asshole comment about him havin’ a crush on you. You ain’t no bully, I know that much. I figured it was something else, and I just pieced it all together from there.” Benny settled down on the car hood again, and inhaled a deep breath of smoke from the pipe. “Bad breakup?”

            “Yeah.” Dean sighed, staring up at the stars again as the music went on.

 

            _All that is now,_

_All that is gone,_

_All that is to come,_

_And everything under the sun is in tune,_

_But the sun is eclipsed by the moon,_

           

“Ah, well. That bites. You’ll move on.”

            “Yeah. You’re right.” Dean said, hoping that he was.

 

           

 

The weather was getting colder, but Dean thought he was getting better. He was spending a lot more time with Benny, Garth and Charlie, and far less time mulling over everything that had happened between he and Cas. And Cas seemed to have finally given up. Dean stopped feeling those eyes on him all the time, and the texts had stopped coming.

            “I’m just saying, you know I can shred bass, and Garth isn’t bad on guitar. And we could have a drummer now.” Charlie spoke, gesturing at Benny who was sitting across from her at one of Dean’s favorite places to get burgers—though it wasn’t the bar he had taken Cas to. It would be a long time before Dean went there to play pinball.

            “Sounds like we’d suck.” Benny replied, leaning back in his chair as they waited for their food.

            “Come on, we could be rock stars.” Dean interjected cheerfully. It was a good day, really. It was Friday, school had gone by quickly, and now he had the whole weekend to spend with his friends.

            He thought it’d be a good weekend, at least, until a very unwelcome distraction arrived.

            Dean couldn’t do anything but stare as he approached their table, hoping that maybe it was just someone who _looked_ like Michael, maybe he was walking to the table behind them, maybe—

            “Dean, I haven’t seen you around in a while! I was just getting a table and I saw you all sitting here, so I said to myself, why not invite Castiel’s friends to join us?” Michael spoke an annoyingly chipper voice.

            Dean’s heart sunk as his eyes followed to where Michael was gesturing. Cas and Samandriel were standing uncomfortably nearby, and from what Dean could see of Cas’s face that wasn’t obscured by his hands, he was bright red.

            Dean had wondered if Cas had said anything to his family or not, considering how they didn’t actually know that he and Dean had been dating. Samandriel looked uncomfortable enough to have an idea of what was going on, but he was clearly the only one who knew that Dean and Cas weren’t talking. Dean had no idea how to get out of this.

            He glanced around at all of his friends who all shared a similar stumped expression.

            “Er-well—“ Dean tried stupidly.

            “Great! I’ll put some tables together.” And Michael was already heading back to Cas and Samandriel before Dean could even protest.

            “Well…this is going to be awkward.” Charlie said, staring as Michael pushed a nearby table against theirs.

            “There!” He said, just as their server approached, and the Novak brothers all took their seats. Cas and Dean were both trying very hard not to look at each other.

            “Hey there, I’m Sadie, I’ll be taking care of you all tonight.” The attractive girl spoke, flashing her best customer service smile around at the group. “What can I get you guys to drink?”

            Everyone, with the exception of a very oblivious Michael took their time picking out a drink, stalling the inevitable conversation as long as they could.

            “So,” Michael spoke as soon as Sadie had left. “Castiel, why don’t you introduce me to your friends?”

            Cas, who normally had an uncanny habit of staring at people in the most uncomfortable way, currently had his eyes fixed on his menu as he mumbled something incoherent.

            Michael frowned at the odd behavior, but before he could comment Dean stepped in.

            “Uh, This is Benny, Garth, and Charlie. We’re all in the same Junior class.”

            “How’s your English been going? You haven’t been over for tutoring in a while.”

            At first Dean thought it was odd that Michael, who had never taken well to him, was suddenly being so friendly and open, but a moment later he realized what was probably going on. If Cas was moping even half as much at home as he had been at school, it wouldn’t take much to figure out he was depressed. Michael was probably making an effort to try to cheer Cas up. Obviously, it was not working very well.

            “Oh, er, well, our schedules weren’t matching up very well, uh…so Benny is tutoring me now.”

            That got Cas to look up, and Dean immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut. His grades since the break up had definitely suffered, and upon bringing the issue up to Benny his friend had agreed to help him out. It wasn’t the same as having Cas as a tutor, but it was helping. He hadn’t really intended on letting Cas find out about that.

            “Ah, well, that’s—“

            “I’ve gotta pee.” Dean interrupted, suddenly getting to his feet. God, how was he supposed to sit there through all of dinner, trying not to look at Cas? He was right there, all sad blue eyes and big glasses. Dean needed some fresh air.

            The mid November chill felt good on his nerves as Dean stepped outside, taking a few deep breaths. He had to find a way out of this. Maybe he could fake sick and go home. Maybe he could have a family emergency. Maybe—“

            “You’re getting tutoring from Benny now?”

            Dean’s blood ran colder than the freezing temperature outside.

            “I came outside to get away from you.” He replied, refusing to look Cas in the eye as the other boy stepped in front of him.

            “I don’t recall you being so rude to me before.”

            “And you weren’t so damn annoying before, either. What the hell do you want?” If he looked Cas in the eye he’d never be able to stay mad. Why couldn’t Cas just leave him alone?

            “To talk.”

            “Tough shit. I don’t have anything left to say.”

            “Don’t lie to me, Dean. I know—“

            “You know _what_?” He couldn’t keep staring at the parking lot. His eyes finally caught Cas’s. He looked determined, and it made Dean want to shove him away. Why did Cas have to make this so fucking _hard_? “You don’t, Cas. You don’t know. It’s _over_. I made that pretty clear to you when we broke up. You’re not going to change anything.”

            “You lied, didn’t you? Tell me you lied. I know you did, there is no way that everything we had together was fake.”

            “Christ, Cas, we were dating for a _month_! It was just a thing, it didn’t mean anything! We’re in high school, stop acting like it’s the end of the world!”

            “Tell me you love me.” Cas’s hands were suddenly curled in Dean’s jacket, and Cas forced him back against the side of the building. Their faces were close, and for a split second, Dean almost caved and kissed him.

            “What the hell!? I’m not going to say that, Cas. Get off of me.”

            “No, not until you tell me you love me.”

            “Get _off,_ Cas!”

            There was a lot of hurt in those eyes when Dean shoved Cas away, and Dean wasn’t sure if he felt bad or not. Well, of course he _felt_ badly about upsetting Cas even more, but he was going to far, and it was pissing Dean off.

            “Why are you doing this to—“

            “Cas, shut the hell up. I can’t deal with this.” He didn’t give Cas a chance to answer before he stormed to his car. Dean sent Charlie a text, letting her know that he wasn’t feeling well and that he had gone home. He knew she wouldn’t believe him, and that his friends would probably be pissed that he had ditched them, but he didn’t care.

            Despite frequent attempts by all three of his friends to contact him over the weekend, Dean kept himself scarce. He didn’t bother to message anyone back, because he knew they were just going to ask him about what had happened with Cas, and he didn’t want to talk about it.

            He hardly even talked to Sam, and spent a large amount of his Sunday out on a long drive, thinking about Cas and everything that had happened between them.

 

            The following Monday, Dean couldn’t get Cas out of his mind. Their altercation at the restaurant had jarred him, and Dean had scarcely gotten any sleep the past few days, which left him tired and bad-tempered at school.

            He skipped lunch so he could avoid having to deal with prying questions from the others, and favored instead wandering around the hallways, while he considered skipping the remainder of his classes to go out for a long drive. This turned out to be a bad idea.

            Dean wasn’t paying much attention to where he was walking, so he didn’t even notice that he was passing by Mr. MacLeod’s office until the door opened, and an oddly flustered looking Cas nearly slammed right into him.

            Their eyes met.

            Barely a second passed before the color on Cas’s cheeks deepened brilliantly, and a horrified look crossed his face.

            “Er,” Dean started, unsure of what to say, but he was saved the trouble as Cas bolted down the hallway, clearly intent on putting as much space between he and Dean as possible.

            Dean stared after him, his heart sinking deeper, if that was even possible. God, Cas had looked downright scared of him. Guilt pooled in Dean’s stomach. Cas may have been out of line, but Dean had been too harsh with him. He had been acting like that because he was hurt. Even if it was out of line, Dean shouldn’t have shoved him, at the very least.

            So Dean decided to suffer through the remaining classes, in hopes that he would get a chance to catch Cas before the day was out.

            And it was long. His classes seemed to drag on for hours, which only gave him more time to mull over Cas. But it wasn’t even their recent fight, or the breakup that kept running through his mind. He thought about that first, drunk kiss. He thought about their pinball date, and all the nights that he’d snuck over to Cas’s house. He missed Cas’s tutoring and his guitar and his smile. He had to remind himself of the bruises left by his father to erase away all of that want.

            As luck would have it, once classes were finally out, Dean got his chance to speak to Cas as he was heading through the parking lot.

            Cas was standing by his car, tossing his backpack into the passenger seat. He looked like a wreck, and it made Dean feel terrible.

            It took a few steady breaths before Dean had the nerve to approach him, though he wondered if this was even a good idea.

            “Cas?”

            Cas’s stare was even more unnerving than usual. He looked so lost and confused and it nearly made Dean sick to think that it was because of him.

            “Are you…are you okay?” It probably wasn’t the best question to ask.

            Cas’s expression went from perturbed to incredulous faster than Dean thought was possible.

            “Am I _okay_?” Cas repeated, his tone dangerous. “ _Am I okay_? What is the matter with you, Dean? Why even—“

            “Cas, I just—last Friday, I shouldn’t have—“

            “Stop. Just _stop_. I do not want to talk to you. I don’t want your pity or whatever else you’re here to give me. Just leave me alone.”

            “Cas…”

            “I mean it, Dean. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I got rid of your number. So…”

            Whatever else Cas was going to say was left unfinished as the teen hastily got into his car and left, leaving Dean alone and so much more upset than he thought he would be.

 

            “So you gonna cry all night, or are you gonna tell me the whole story?”

            “Benny, I’m not—“

            “You’re definitely cryin’. I don’t care.”

            “I just got done telling you everything.”

            “I don’t mean about what happened at that burger place last week. If you’re so torn up over this kid, why’d you end it in the first place?”

            Dean shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “It just…wasn’t working out…you know, he was moving too fast. He keeps saying he loves me and it’s…weird.”

            “Dean, don’t lie.” Sam spoke up irritably as he propped himself up on his elbows, sitting on Dean’s bed. “If you don’t tell him, I will.”

            Dean stared helplessly at Sam. He’d never intended on really telling Sam why he’d broken up with Cas, but Sam was too clever, and he knew Dean better than anyone. Of course he had figured it out instantly, so Dean had fessed up to him a while ago.

            Dean finally told Benny. He was quiet as Dean told him how they’d met, how great things had started. When Dean finished telling what his father had done, and how he’d finally ended things with Cas, he stared down at his feet, not sure if he felt better or worse after finally putting all of that out.

            “Dean shouldn’t have let Dad get in-between him and Cas. You hurt Cas, and now you’re upset, too.” Sam said after the silence that followed Dean’s story.

            “Ah, Sam,” Benny said gently, looking at the younger of the two brothers. “’Fraid it ain’t that simple. He did what he felt like he had to do in a difficult situation.”

            “So you think it was right?” Dean said, looking up. “What I did?”

            Benny frowned. “Dean, I don’t think it was right or wrong. I can tell you that your dad ain’t right. And you got a difficult situation. Which means difficult choices gotta be made. There ain’t no right or wrong, it’s up to what you think is important.”

            Dean held his head in his hands, wishing there was an easier solution to all of this. Why couldn’t it just be easy to be with Cas? “I don’t know…these last few weeks have been pretty bad, but…The way Dad acted that day…it’s not usually that bad. And what if he hurt Cas? What if Cas’s family found out? And he’s already gotten it pretty bad at school…”

            “And that’s where you gotta realize that that ain’t your choice to make.”

            Dean looked up from his hands to stare at Benny. “What are you talking about?”

            “I know it ain’t easy to hear when you’re tryin’ to look out for someone, but you’ve gotta let Cas make his own choices. If he’s willin’ to take those risks, you gotta respect that. You might be worried, but if it ain’t with you, it’ll just be the next person.”

            Dean was quiet, and went back to staring at his feet. He thought about how badly Cas had been handling things. Maybe Dean had hurt him worse than staying with him would have. But the idea of Cas being hurt by Dean’s father, or his family disowning him…that would be on _Dean_ if something like that happened. And he knew that. But Benny did have a point. Cas was gay. He wasn’t going to just settle down with a girl and have a family someday—or if he did, it wouldn’t make him happy. Maybe he hadn’t made the right choice…maybe…

            “But Cas doesn’t want to see me.” Dean recalled. “Today, he...I don’t blame him. After how much I’ve pushed him away…even if I wanted to fix this, he’s not going to talk to me.”

            “You can still try.” Sam suggested.

            “You ain’t gonna make Cas do nothin’ he don’t wanna do. But if you don’t think he’s gonna let you talk, you might have to come up with somethin’ else.”

            “Yeah…” Dean said, suddenly staring at his stack of CDs he had in the corner of his room. It was giving him an idea. “Yeah, you know what, you’re right…and I might know how to do it. But I’m going to need some help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small cw for drug use, just marijuana.


End file.
